From the Experiences of a J.A.(C.)P.

The Purim Timetables

2011-03-20T22:39:00.001-04:00

Today’s the one day that we go off track,
We derail from our normal levush,
It began in a circuit of provinces,
On a mainline from Hodu to Kush.

Achashveirosh was the token leader,
And he set events in motion,
He threw a party for his local subjects,
To show his gratitude and devotion.

There were Jews who were all aboard,
Though they were out of line to attend,
Goyim and Yidden are not a good union,
Mordechai knew how the trip would end.

During the festivities Vashti caused the king’s patience to combust.
Pimples and a t(r)ail made her defy his express orders.
Without stopping to gauge the consequences,
Achashveirosh had her bahn-ed by his porters.

Immediately; without delay,
Messengers traveled on a ride,
A new queen was needed to bridge Vashti’s position,
Girls flocked from far and wide.

Hagai conducted the hopefuls,
In his cabin they primped and they shined,
The others thought Esther had some loco-motive,
Because she refused Hagai’s efforts each time.

Even when the king pulled out all the stops,
Esther would not reveal her birth nation,
Achashveirosh tried without success,
But still had her elevated to the queen’s station.

We take a detour here,
To a scene from the underground,
When two rookies tried to harm the king,
But Mordechai had Bigsan and Seresh terminally bound.

A man named Haman was given a platform,
(Yes, now we are back to our tale,)
He asked Achashveirosh to hack all the Jews
Over a shared tanker-d of ale.

Achashveirosh turned aside Haman’s container of gold,
The king didn’t give a flying junction,
Haman whistled all the way home,
And set wheels rolling to plan his function.

When the Jews were slugged with the news,
They took it freight-fully hard,
Fueled by desperation, they fasted and cried,
Smeared with coal, Mordechai sat outside the king’s yard.

Esther was afraid to visit the king,
Because his signal she hadn’t received.
After three days of fasting she shuttled herself over,
Hoping to get the Yidden a reprieve.

Achashveirosh shunted his surprise,
Without (pica)dilly-dallin’,
He gave his wife safe crossing to the throne,
Then joined her private party’s bandwagon.

All Esther wanted at this intersection,
Was another occasion to be their host,
She asked the king and Haman to a second event,
Just for the people of their exalted posts.

The king leaned back on his headboard that night,
By a lantern his aides read the royal scripts.
Achashveirosh remembered the debt he owed Mordechai,
He was being driven insane by it.

Haman showed up, pistons letting off steam,
He wanted Mordechai swiftly disabled.
But after giving Achashveirosh ideas for a reward,
The king laid his cards on the table.

The next morning Mordechai was Haman’s passenger,
He took a transit route ‘round and ‘round the city
The turntable of our mazal began to shift slowly,
Just rewards are not always pretty!

The highlight of the day was when,
Haman’s daughter trained some exhaust on his face.
Caught in the headlights, Haman felt tram-pled,
He wanted to speed right on out of that place.

Hauling himself to Esther’s party,
A smelly Haman was given wide berth,
Shaking off the garbage and all of his shame,
He couldn’t wait to spike his own worth.

But what a surprise when Esther railed against him,
She put a brake on his scheme so fine.
Achashveirosh, boiler-ing, choo’d him out,
And Haman got a metrocard to the end of the line!

That’s when the big switch of our story took place,
And Haman was transported with his kit and caboose.
Enjoying the mechanics of his downfall,
We watched him hanged from his very own noose!

The Yidden tooted with joy, and gave tanks to Hashem,
When He emerged as our story’s true engineer.
Out of a dark tunnel, and into the light,
Now we wait for Purim to arrive each year!

So that’s the train of thought behind the reason
We act so choo choo at this time,
And for the cutest coaches in the subways today,
Get a ticket and come along as we ride!

(Yes, I made the costumes. No, I won't make them for you if you paid me. And yes, my husband had a costume too but he declined to be in the photos.)

Updated Picture

2010-12-08T11:24:00.000-05:00

Hear me Roar

2010-11-24T23:11:00.003-05:00

Weird thing happened today.

I was asked to be class mother for my son's nursery class and made a round of phone calls lasat night to mothers regarding chanukah tips for the teachers.

Each call took between 30 seconds to a minute except for one. One mother, whom I decided is my new best friend, spoke with me for a full 17.5 minutes.

Our entire conversation was basically about how we couldn't believe that we didn't know each other. We must have played Jewish geography for 15 out of the 17 minutes and yet though we were both of similar ages and had grown up close to each other and in some of the same schools we had nothing in common.

Today the same mother called me again to make sure I got the money she sent because her son claimed he threw it in the garbage bin at school. After I assured her it made it all the way to me, we said our goodbyes but at the last second she quickly blurted that she had something weird to ask.

She said, "I hung up the phone last night and couldn't sleep because I felt that I somehow knew you even though there is no possible way that can be. I was literally up at the oddest hour thinking about why I felt such deja vu talking to you and then it hit me! Please don't think I'm weird for asking, but has anyone ever told you that you sound exactly like Tzipi Caton?"

I laughed and told her I could see why she thought so.

So the the conversation went like this:

"Wait, you wrote that book? I READ that book! I LOVED that book! I can't believe I spent 20 minutes talking to Tzipi Caton last night! Oh wow! Wow! It's so funny!" And so forth.

Of course I called my mother and we both laughed at how random it was for someone to recognize me by my voice. Although she claimed it wasn't my voice as much as my manner of speaking- the way I'm excited and laughing all the time.

Then at a wedding earlier I went to the kallah to give my mazal tov wishes and even though we had only met once at her engagement, she knew me right away. I was impressed that she recognized me and she waved me off and said, "Nah, its not the face, its your voice! Everyone knows what Tzipi Caton sounds like!"

I'm doubly weirded out.

Regardless of the above, now that I spent the majority of my night screaming over bad acoustics, my signature voice is gone anyway and maybe I can be anonymous for a few days. :-)

You Wanted a Post

2010-11-04T23:35:00.003-04:00

To be very honest to everyone out there. I have no idea if I'm continuing this blog.

For a few different reasons.

The first one would be that technically, the blog is over. How much can I really write about being sick and miracles and all this inspiring stuff? It's not that my life experiences haven't changed me a lot, it's only that since I was 16 I have been through more life experiences and as I get older and these things become more personal, there are just things I don't feel like posting.

To bring out my main point. I don't know what individual readers took out of my blog, but I'll tell you what I took from it.

When I started this site it was because I truly enjoyed posting and putting my experiences into words and making them come alive for others.

I loved the interaction and responses I got from people and was blown away by how powerful my journal became. My blog was pure fun.

The book and the speaking arrangements and my next book were all amazing experiences and I do not regret a single one.

I do understand that fame comes at a cost. As this is such, my decision must be about if I'm willing to pay this price.

One of the biggest costs of my "fame" is that writing has stopped being fun. I came to this blog to unwind and make people laugh and cry and have a good read. At some point I began to realize that when I have to deal with people stepping into my personal space, writing this blog isn't enjoyable anymore.

Yes, Miracle Ride is a very personal story. It is also a story that took place almost ten years ago. Although it is a story that deals with heavy medical issues and extremely personal experiences, I would venture to say that making public that part of my life isn't half as personal as telling anonymous bloggers some of the things my kids say. Not because they're really private, but because I deserve for readers to respect my privacy in my every day life.

I love my readers and I love to talk to you on a personal level and for you to feel like you know me and I'm winking back at you through my work. In my perfect world, that's the way it should be. That's the way it used to be.

Recently though, I had a few disturbing incidents where my privacy and personal life have been seriously breached. I was harassed and stalked and I suffered the indignity of having personal information bandied about because certain fans felt they were entitled to know these things about me. They felt that if I could share my cancer story with the world, what was wrong with sharing some other smaller details of my life today.

Let me tell you what's wrong. Other than the fact that what I share is for me alone to decide, I'm not sixteen anymore. I'm not an irresponsible teenager who loves life and has no one to answer to.

These days I am a mother and a wife and can count a few other titles I respond to. These days when someone stalks or threatens or harasses me and wastes my precious time, there are other people hurting.

These days, every time I get another comment on this blog asking when I plan on posting next, I flinch thinking about it. This blog was never meant to be a chore. It was never meant to become something I had to think ten times about because of the arguing I sometimes have to moderate between commentors and because of the way it will encourage readers to pry into my life.

So writing this blog has ceased being fun. It has stopped being an enjoyable medium for me to talk to fans.

I miss writing here, but I also miss the old naive me who thought that decent people respect boundaries.

So here you go. You wanted a post. I can't imagine this is the one you thought you would get, but it's a post nonetheless.

Please don't ask how much longer it will take. It may take forever to make up my mind. If you're so concerned about the time you're wasting checking up on me each day, subscribe to my posts and you'll be notifed immediately when I post next.

No Time to Post...

2010-06-09T16:54:00.003-04:00

Really way too busy to be posting right now so I'm not really blogging, just putting up some pics of my kids for fun.

Inspired? Not.

2010-05-26T21:02:00.008-04:00

I'm going to post this even though it may be controversial. I'm posting this for a very good reason. I promise. I don't mean to hurt or offend anyone, but if you're going to subject me to something this stupid by forwarding every idiotic email you get, this is what you can expect.

So if you're the type to get offended easily, stop reading. If not, read, like, dislike, whatever, but DON'T, I repeat DO NOT use my comment section to turn this post into a back and forth forum and discussion.

This is MY blog. MY opinions. NOT yours. You're welcome to them but if I have to referee I'm going to shut down all further comments for this site.

Now. *deep calming breath*

I received an email the other day:

I heard a beautiful story in a shiur given by Rabbi Avrohom M. Alter that is available online. He said the story in the name of Rebbetzin Kanievsky.

In March, someone packed a car with 100 kilos of explosives and parked it at the CineMall in Haifa. It was parked hear a supporting pillar. Had it exploded, not only would it have destroyed that pillar, but other cars in the lot would have caught fire causing the gas tanks to explode. In that very popular mall, the consequences would have been too horrendously tragic to contemplate.

The explosion did not happen. A passerby spotted some smoke coming from the car and alerted the police whose sappers were able to come and defuse the explosives.

Even Ehud Olmert recognized this was a miracle, although he attributed it to the alertness of civilians.

Here's what really happened:

Several weeks before this event, a girl in Haifa who had been sick and went for tests was told she had stomach cancer. The tumor was so big, and had metastasized, and there was nothing the doctors could do. They told her to go home for her final weeks.

This non-religious girl and her non-religious parents pleaded with the doctors to try. They begged them at least to make an effort. The doctors finally agreed and told her to come back the next day for surgery.

She was assigned a young, inexperienced surgeon. They felt it would be good practice for him, and since there was nothing that could help her, it didn't really matter.

The night before the surgery, this non-religious girl pleaded with Hashem. She said to him, "HaKadosh Boruch Hu, when we had the Bais HaMikdosh people could bring you korbanos to plead their case. Now we have no Kohanim, we have no Bais HaMikdosh. But I still want to bring you a korban."

She went to her closet and took out all her immodest clothing and took it out to the yard and burned them. As the her clothes went up in flames, she cried out, "This is my korban."

The next day this girl went to the hospital in her nightgown. She had burned her entire wardrobe and this was all she had left. She had the surgery. The giant tumor had not metastisized, as was previously believed. It was totally contained. It was easily removed. And it was benign.

She told all her non-religious friends about the miracle. When the girl had recovered enough to get out of bed, her friends brought over all their immodest clothing and made another fire.

Left with nothing to wear, the girls needed new clothes. When that bomb was supposed to explode at the CineMall, these girls were inside buying themselves new, modest clothing.

A miracle that a civilian saw some smoke? Or a reward for tznius?

Now instead of ranting at the idiocy of the above story, I'm only going to post some discrepancies a friend and I found and sent back and forth in email. There are more, but you can do the rest yourself.

Okay you know this was made up, right? Because of course Reb Kanievsky spoke to the girl and knew exactly why she was in the mall. Oh, and were all the friends there in their nightgowns too?

Yes, I know that email was made up. I mean, have you, or anyone you know been told, "I'm sorry, your cancer is too advanced, we'll give you the young, inexperienced surgeon to practice on you?" I haven't. And if this girl was takkeh left with no clothing bec they were all untznius, does she sound like the type to have a tznius nightgown??? Still puke-worthy. Just because you stick in the part about her cancer, all of a sudden, we're all supposed to tzitter.

It just makes me nauseous how people make up stuff like this and then go and repeat it and think that we're supposed to like do teshuva over it etc and then the worst part are those girls that actually forward it because they DO believe it and they get all inspired and emotional lol.

And lol about the part about her owning a tzniyus nightgown- I didn't even think about that but really duh- im FRUM and I didn't own a tzniyus nightgown until i got married. *rolls eyes*

Yuck, cant stop thinking about that story, its like a bad Yair Weinstock book.

Yeah, I thought of another problem in the story- SINCE WHEN can you find tzniyus clothing in ISRAELI MALLS??? They should have been in Geula. Plus a bomb scare in Geula would have been a much better story anyway.

The whole story makes me queasy so I won't dwell on it any longer. Also, I didn't verify that Reb. Kanievsky really said the above- I'm just reprinting it the way me, and the 600 other girls on this friend's contact list got it. I doubt any of them verified the origin of this story either so I'm not going to feel too bad. Also, I don't even believe Reb. Kanievsky said such a story. But I'll leave that for you to decide.

Let me tell you what the WORST part of this whole thing is.

THIS is why I grew up with such an attitude.

When a girl sits for fifteen years in a school system where stories like THIS are the bulk of the "inspiration" her teachers pump into her for life- what is she supposed to turn out like?

This is utter fantasy. Supersized garbage. Bombs, explosions, promises to G-d, hidden spyware and teenage heroes. Oh, and of course the requisite ba'al teshuva aspect.

Where's the real inspiration?

I grew up hearing this stuff in class thinking "This is all nice and well for the people G-d loves and shows such wonderful open miracles to. Maybe Hashem doesn't love me as much and that's why He doesn't send such inspiring incidents my way?"

I'm almost tempted to say that when I was diagnosed with cancer I jumped off the doctor's table and did a happy dance because I just KNEW this proved G-d loved me and that now I was finally going to see open nissim.

I would say that, but firstly it's not true and second, if I did say that I'd be just as bad as the teachers I couldn't stand.

Where are the real stories? Like the kid who was nice to the retarded girl in her class that smelled.

My favorite sample of real inspiration comes from the book "Dovid Meyer" that I read growing up. It's the part where Dovid Mayer, an au pair for a non-religious family, ties his gartel (belt) to the baby's bassinet and the baby falls asleep to his singing and rocks along with his shuckeling as he learns a blatt of gemara.

Where are the simple, real stories that people can identify with?

Stories like the one in that email are big mistakes. We're desensitizing our kids from recognizing the real inspiration in their own lives. I want my children to grow up feeling that Hashem is with them EACH DAY. Not just in Haifa at bomb sights while He's rewarding some girl for throwing away her clothing.

I'm too worked up to even write more rationally. I think everyone gets the point.

Individuality

2010-04-25T22:55:00.001-04:00

This poem MUST remain a state secret for a while so don't tell anyone you saw it here- my niece is using it for a school assignment under her name but I was so excited with it that I just wanted to post it already. So just don't let anyone find out that she paid me to write it for her. :-)

Growing up I felt alone,
Had nowhere I felt right.
My friends were always noticed,
While I stood just out of sight.

They seemed to have it perfect
Knowing just what to do and say
Easy smiles, the right clothes,
They were accepted right away

So for a while I copied
Made sure to dress the same way too
Had the matching designer bags
And the perfect pair of shoes

The clothes didn’t seem to cut it
Even the compliments seemed fake
So I went back to my observing
And looked for another take

And then I cut my hair like they did
Laughed at the jokes I didn’t quite get
They laughed along and liked the hairstyle
But I didn’t fit just yet

And as much as I kept trying
To copy every expression on their faces
I never felt like I was me,
I was pieces in a thousand places

Then one day I woke up tired
Was so discouraged I could cry
I put my hair into a good old ponytail
And gave my own self a try.

That day at lunch I admitted
That those shoes pinched my toes
I laughed a real laugh then
When all I heard were a bunch of “I know’s!”

Slowly I stopped worrying
And stopped copying what they bought
Figured it was time to find out who I was
Without worrying what they thought

Funny thing happened then
As I started to make the shift
I became noticed more
Wasn’t lost now in the drift.

I guess when I was like them
I was just another face in the crowd
With those matching perfect shoes and bag
Nothing different to make me stand out

But now my hair is longer,
Pulled back into place
It’s not the raging style
But it looks good on my face

And my friends really accept me
For whom I am and what I have
They like me for what’s inside me
(Although I still love that designer bag!)

It was hard to make that realization
That I had to break away
Stop doing things just to be like them
And figure out my own way

But after all is said and done
It’s easy enough to see
That while it’s wonderful to feel accepted,
It feels better to feel like me.

Purim Pics!

2010-03-02T12:45:00.004-05:00

Oh, and yes! JB has peyos! I really wanted to post about our trip to Miron but you know, Purim got in the way...

My Monopoly man and his bag of money:

My kids and my great-nephews (the ballerinas):

My brother kissing a friend on the street. (My brother is the girlie. Don't ask.):

Purim Poem 2010

2010-02-24T14:33:00.002-05:00

I dunno about Purim this year...

I love Purim but I love the spirit of it, not the competition. I can't stand the neighbors showing off their six daughters all matching in some costume I saw for $29.95 in the party store and giving out 65 shalach manos that cost at least $10 apiece.

I mean, yeah, I've been doing themes since I was two and I have pictures of all eleven of us (parents and the siblings) all dressed matching, but they're in costumes we made ourselves and with a theme we worked on together as a family project. It wasn't about my mother showing off her brood to her friends, it was about us kids getting together for a day of creative fun.

There was no pressure as a kid. Purim was pure fun. Sure, I lost my cool when a sister wore our "secret" costume to her purim masquerade a few days before the actual unveiling and I got mad if a brother wanted to be a soldier instead of the garbage collectors we were doing that year, but still, it was all in good fun.

Then I get married and have my own kids and I'm learning what Purim is all about in the adult world. My FaceBook home page is FULL of my friends obsessing over their themes and costumes and the last item that MUST go into their mishloach manos. I'm starting to feel inferior and even a tad resentful that my husband won't allow me to blow my last three paychecks on fancy chocolates no one likes and bottles of wine. Oh, and three Sundays baking Boston cream pies and Biscotti. (Please, I'm kidding)

Just as a by the way- for those friends who are baking- don't bother. If you have kids under the age of ten in your home, everything homemade goes right in the bin. I have a three year old baker here too and I know EXACTLY what goes into your cookies. Snot sweat and more snot.

So not my thing.

Which is not to say I don't go a little crazy.

I am a perfectionist after all and I do want my kids to look good and I want to be proud of whatever presentation we decide to give.

So while my mishloach manos isn't anything special (think everything that was ten for a dollar in the supermarket) and our costumes are pretty basic (black hat, shabbos vest, cane, and money necktie, or in my daughter's case, a pillowcase stuffed to look like a bag of money) the one thing I pride myself on every year is my poem.

You liked it last year, so here's the one we're doing now! (Our theme is Monopoly)

Money money years ago
It started with a king,
He ruled 127 countries
And monopolized everything.

He threw a party for all his subjects
But then his queen refused to dance,
So he shut down her accounts
And said “You lost your Chance.”

When his deed hit him hard,
He sent out a new bill
Said “I’m looking for a Queen,
Vashti’s place to fill.”

Girls from all over the country
Basked in Hagai’s makeups and scents
They were banking on this to get rich quick
And would spare no expense.

Esther had all the properties
Achashverosh wanted in his wife
He took one good look at her
And signed the dotted line for her life.

But although he kept asking her
“A penny for your thoughts”
Esther kept her identity secret
And wouldn’t allow it to be bought.

It may have bothered the king greatly
But soon he had troubles of a capital order
Mordechai found two traitors
And the king had them drawn and quartered.

Then all was forgotten
When Haman proposed his new endeavor
With moneybags as a bribe
He hoped to be rid of the Jews forever

But Achashverosh didn’t much like the Jews
And so gave Haman the Royal seal
Said “Business is business”
And “I’ll fund the whole deal”

Haman set a lottery
He let the die cast the date,
Though he didn’t credit the actions the Yidden took,
When they found out about their fate.

When Charvona came to teller,
Esther asked for a fast,
“For three days of davening I appeal,
Before the king’s patience I’ll tax”

“I’d treasury your company tonight,” Esther said,
“And please make Haman aware.”
The king was interested in her offer,
And promised he and Haman would be there.

The King asked for her trust,
Begged her to get the worries off her (community) chest,
But “Please come tomorrow night”
Was Esther’s only request.

Buy night Achashverosh couldn’t sleep,
And called for Haman’s advice,
“I need to give someone a bonus,
Give me an idea that’s nice.”

So he expressed a fanciful vision
“Weal-the king means me of course!”
But when Haman heard he’d be leading Mordechai
It was like a Railroad hitting him at full force!

His daughter re-vault-ed him in public,
He didn’t much like this game,
And when he had to run to Esther’s party,
He thought he was going insane.

Only one thing had him laughing all the way to the bank,
The thought of cashing in Mordechai’s chips,
So he rushed in to his private party
With a confident swagger in his hips.

When the party passed Go
Eshter laid her cards on the table
“This man has been nickel and dimeing you!”
And she told Achashverosh all she was able.

Obviously, Haman went to Jail,
And he was given free parking on a tall tree.
He and his family hung high above the boardwalk,
For all Shushan’s residents to see.

With the flip of a coin, our nation was saved,
Their mazal was changed in a blink.
Haman was gone, the gezeira was over,
From rags to riches in a wink.

All the Yidden Sell-ebrated,
Once the news got around,
Hashem performed a huge nes,
And the Jews were now safe and sound!

Today we give Mishloach manos, we eat a seuda
And are “b’simcha adei ad”,
And of course we do matanos l’evyonim
Giving dollars “l’chol haposhet yad”!

So this is the story across the board,
What the megilla has to say.
Take note and remember it well,
And monopolize the day!

A Frelichen Purim!

Week's Worth of Posts

2010-02-01T10:22:00.005-05:00

Yeah yeah, I'm still around. Just too extraordinarily busy to post.

But there are a lot of things I should have posted about so today I'm playing catch up.

I think the first thing I should post about is my trip to Montreal.

Last Sunday I flew out there with my daughter (on her first Birthday!) for a speaking engagement. HB was adorable! She flirted with everyone in the airport and ate delicious dirt off the floors as she crawled around for the hour that we waited to board our flight.

Then, once on the plane, she looked fascinated out the window until takeoff when I had to sit her facing me on my lap. I was afraid she'd scream as the plane went up, but she was really really quiet and alert and as the plane lifted and there was that slight drag that pulls you back into your seat, HB dozed off. The drag pulled her body down to me and she gave into it and closed her eyes. It was so funny!

So she slept through the entire ride and when we landed I woke her and we breezed through the airport because I had no luggage save for one carry on.

We met up with the woman who came to get us from the a-port and she took us to my grandmother's flat about fifteen minutes away.

Then my grandmother spent the day spoiling us both rotten. We had a HUGE lunch that only a grandmother can set up and then we went out to buy HB a new snowsuit because her great-grandmother was SCANDALIZED that she wore JB's old navy blue one.

So one MAGENTA snow suit later we went back home to take a nap before the big event that night.

We left right on time, fifteen minutes late and spent the whole way arguing with the GPS that was supposed to get us there but didn't recognize the address no matter how many different ways we tried putting it in.

We got there in the end (the place was only ten minutes away and we followed printed instructions) but we spent an extra fifteen minutes ranting at the stupid GPS about why it didn't work. My grandmother had specifically given my grandfather's car for a car wash that day because she was set on taking his car that night because it had GPS. So of course when the GPS didn't work she was devastated and on the way home we drove right through a three foot deep slush puddle to punish it.

The party was thrown by an organization called Ezras Cholim. The organization is like a referral agency- they help patients navigate all the red tape there is in the medical field and get them into great doctors that would otherwise have waiting lists as long as my arm.

I've been to lots of parties but this one was awesome. The auction was downstairs and upstairs, since it was in a rented wedding hall, the caterers set up the chairs around small tables so the whole setting was very cozy and not as "speechy" as most other events where the chairs are lined up in straight rows.

My grandmother sat down at a center table that had a big reserved sign on it and whenever someone came to tell her it was a reserved table she proudly said, "But I am Tzeepi Caton's Grrrrandmozzer!" (She's French)Of course when someone told me to leave I did so very politely. Then later when I was called up to speak I totally enjoyed the look of horror on the same lady's face.

It happens to me all the time. It's not like a wear a sign announcing who I am when I get to an event and I don't tell anyone who I am until my speech because otherwise my whole night gets killed with all the people who MUST come over and talk to me. So it was much easier when a group of ladies came to my table and politely told me shove off, to just apologize and wheel HB away.

The speech was beautiful. I spoke and showed off HB who was smiling and waving and so not intimidated. (She gets that from me!) I think that HB was the hit of the night. People left talking about her, not me. :-)

Of course we got home really late (the GPS again) and then the next morning I had to wake up really really early to make my flight home.

But alas, the weather in New York was awful and they weren't allowing any flights in so my 11:00 and my 1:30 flights were cancelled and HB and I got to spend another whole day with Babby.

The 3:30 flight did go in the end so we got to the airport early and flew through check in but of course since the whole airport was backed up, I waited an hour in customs and by the time I got out my flight was boarding so my husband had to make do without the Peter Heering liquer he wanted me to pick up in Duty Free.

HB was good on the flight back as well although she didnt sleep but I was antsy and anxious to be home already.

This is why I charge so much for bookings- Two cancelled flights and my day is killed- I charge for my time more than for my speech.

We landed at 5 and at 5:05 I was out of the airport wiating for my ride. No one told me that my ride was making a stop in some hick town on the way home and that they'd get lost and that I'd be sitting with a cranky, hungry kid on my lap and that my toes would be in agony from my (adorable but) pinching boots and that I'd come home a full two hours later than I was supposed to.

But by 8pm I had both kids bathed nad fed and sleeping and I would have loved to sleep too but I had a wedding to run to which I ran to and then ran back from and fell into bed and was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

Then there was my speech for Project HOPE in Monsey this past Motzei Shabbos. HB came along again because there was no way the husband would agree to watch her and JB for the night. JB cried when I left- my speeches don't particularly make him very happy.

HB cried in the car - so me and the husband are even I guess. Although JB was sleeping by 10 and HB was up till 12 when we got to leave the party and then she screamed again at 1:30 when I woke her up to bring her into the house.

But anyway, the party was stunning! They had the whole place decorated with butterflies like the cover of Miracle Ride. It was in someone's home and was set up so nicely. There were a few rooms set up with chairs and large video screens where the speeches and program were shown. HB crawled around my legs as I spoke and I picked her up towards the end when she started chewing on the wires and I was afraid of either a blackout or electrocution.

I stayed late to sign some books and smile a lot at people I didn't know.

The best part of the evening was meeting my longtime friend and "editor" Chany L. who has worked with me on both my books and has read every piece of writing I have done in the last two years and gave me excellent feedback on everything.

We'd never had an opportunity to meet before that night and being that she lived in the area, she dropped by the speech and we got to meet each other in person for the first time. We both agreed that each other were adorable but she might have been lying- I'm not. :-)

By the time we got home I was a zombie and when my husband heard me come in he woke up and told me what a miserable night he had with JB. I smiled pleasantly and told him "welcome to my life." He'd never handle doing this every day with both kids. He told me that I couldn't make enough money for him to babysit ever again and I informed him that when it's your own kids it's not called babysitting. Then he went back to sleep in a huff. Oh well, at least I have some extra money now to buy that new pair of four inch heels I had my eye on.

So I think that's really most of what I was supposed to blog about recently.

Oh, and I didn't get to meet our frequent commentor Brochi because she had a baby Thursday before my Montreal speech! Mazal tov to her and her husband!

Im going to attach some pics of HB in Montreal and more pics of the tzitzis I made for JB last week. His upsherin is in three days and I wasted five hours apeice on each of those pairs, which is why I had no time to post. Hey, he deserves them! We're shaving his HEAD for this! And besides, he only gets to turn three once!

Look what I Found!

2010-01-12T12:13:00.003-05:00

I get asked a lot if certain of the crazier parts of Miracle Ride are real- other than real proof you're just going to have to take my word for most of it, but look what I just dug up! (and yes I know it's a few weeks late...)

P.S.- only about two more weeks to send in your reviews on Invisible Me! Targum's contest runs until January 31 2010. Send 'em to my email address- twinklebrite AT yahoo.com

Top Talents in Jewish Music Donate New Song for RCCS!

2009-12-25T11:24:00.001-05:00

“I Believe in Miracles”; A Song to Help Cancer Patients

Avrohom Fried, Yossi Green, Yisroel Lamm, and other stars in the world of Jewish music have combined their unique talents to produce a theme song to benefit the many hundreds of cancer patients being assisted by RCCS, the Rofeh Cholim Cancer Society.

The theme, “I Believe in Miracles”, came as a result of so many former cancer patients expressing themselves as recipients of a miracle, funded and facilitated by RCCS. The recurrent theme of the song is a song of hope and a song of strength.

In fact, many of the great Rishonim have written how one’s acts of kindness can result in the creation of a “miracle”. We are taught time and time again never to give up hope, even if a “sharp sword is resting upon one’s throat”. And that is the story of the song, and that is the story of RCCS.

Yossi Green, one of the leading composers in contemporary Jewish music was inspired to compose the song as a result of his first-hand knowledge of the accomplishments of RCCS. When Avrohom Fried (arguably the leading singer in the Chassidic music field, today) heard the song, he readily agreed to take part in this Chessed undertaking. And for those who know Yisroel Lamm, it is easy to guess that he immediately agreed to arrange and conduct the music.

The result is obvious to anyone with a discerning ear. According to Yossi Green, this song may go down as one of the greatest in Avrohom Fried’s longstanding history of great hits.

To download this song by donating a minimum of $1.80 to RCCS, please go to:

www.rccsmiracles.org

News!

2009-12-23T20:16:00.002-05:00

There's been a lot going on and each point here probably deserves its own blog post but like I said, too much going on and not too much free time.

Here are the highlights:

Invisible Me went into a SECOND PRINTING! That's awesome considering it's out less than a month! So thanks to everyone to bought a copy and made it shoot up the bestseller list.

I will be speaking in Montreal IY"H- changed my mind in the end. January 24 I'll be there at the Ezras Cholim party so if you're a blog reader from that side of the border make sure to come say hi!

Targum and I are still waiting for your reviews! Nothing professional- just a few sentences telling us what you thought (without giving away plot details of course!). We've resigned ourself to hearing all about readers who were up till 4am to finish- so go ahead, tell us about your sleepless night with Invisible Me!

And now that Invisible Me sold out we KNOW there are lots of you out there reading it so we'll be waiting to hear from you! Email your review to me at twinklebrite AT yahoo.com.

What else? I'd like to be writing another book but I'm kind of stuck with some writer's block so most of my days are split between playing around with a blank Word document and toilet training my son.

If there's anything else I'll be back to post! Right now my blank document is still waiting...

London!

2009-12-09T13:33:00.002-05:00

I'm back from my first speaking arrangement abroad!

Well I was back two days ago really, but you know how it is with jet lag....

Actually, there wasn't any time for jet lag. I left here just after Shabbos, got there Sunday lunchtime, spoke Sunday night, left early Monday morning and got back here Monday afternoon and went right from the airport to my nephew's wedding.

I've never done anything like this and it was a great experience even though I hope I never again have to do something like that in just a day.

I can't believe so many people really read and liked Miracle Ride enough to fly me across the Atlantic...

Had to back out of a trip to LA this weekend though. There's only so much traveling a young mother of two kids who are up all night can take in one week!

I still can't believe I did it!

I think there's so much more I wanted to say about it, but I can't remember what. I'll post again if my mind ever gets back from Great Britain.

The Cutest Contest Entry So Far

2009-12-03T21:16:00.002-05:00

Waiting to hear from readers out there! Click HERE for contest details.

Check out this "review"!

Dear Tzipi Caton,

I am so mad at you. My mother keeps ignoring me. She is reading this book and not paying any attention to me. So not fair! So don't write any more books, unless they are children's books. My mother says I am not old enough to read this one yet, maybe when I am bigger. Even though I am seven years old and I read on a fourth grade level. So you could write one for like fifth graders, that would be good. And when my mother finally came down to the kitchen, she still wasn't listening to me, so I said "I can tell, you're THINKING about INVISIBLE ME!" And then we both started laughing cuz she said I was right!

So to make me feel better, she said I could tell you how I am feeling...she said you might have more time to listen than she does right now.

Sincerely,
Chaya

Tell Me About It!

2009-12-01T14:21:00.003-05:00

My book is on the shelves!!!! I saw it today!!! I even took a picture, hehe.

Now I want everyone to get their hands on a copy and read it, and I'll even offer you a good incentive to do so.

Targum and I are putting up a contest.

We're looking for the best review on Invisible Me.

We need readers to write up what they think about the book, why or why not they'd recommend it to others, what age group they think its appropriate for, what they enjoyed most, and of course, anything else they'd like to share about Invisible Me.

The only things you can't include are spoilers about the book. Please don't mention any specific incidents and of course, don't give away the ending!

All entries will be published on Targum's website, and together, my editors and I will choose our favorite one.

The contest is open from December 1, 2009 until January 31, 2010. Please send your entries to my email address, TwinkleBrite AT yahoo.com and don't forget to put REVIEW in the subject line.

Give us a name you'd like your review to be listed under and we'd like your age as well. (If you prefer your name and age not be mentioned, just say so and we'll keep it private, but you'll still need to send it in to be eligible to win.)

Now for the most important part, the PRIZE! Targum has generously offered to give our winner a 30% discount at Targum.com. Depending on how many reviews are submitted and how many excellent ones we'll need to choose from, we might consider runner ups, but for now, this is what you'll be competing for.

Check out Bas~Melech's review of my book to get an idea of what we are looking for. Thank you Bas~Melech for the great regards!

So dear fans- get reading cos I'll be waiting for your reviews!

-Tzipi

Economics Lesson

2009-11-23T23:11:00.001-05:00

Gave my husband a lesson in economics.

He went to the grocery store and I told him I needed Motrin, but only the Extra Strength.

He told me the Extra Strength usually cost more and shouldn't he rather get the lower dose?

So I explained carefully that if he bought the lower dosage and I'd have to take four pills instead of the two Extra Strength I normally need, I'd finish twice as fast and then replacing that bottle would cost a lot more than just having the Extra Strengths to begin with.

I thought he understood but then he came home with four travel packs of Motrin each containing two low dose pills. Each travel pack cost a whopping 75 cents! He spent three dollars on what is essentially to me two doses, or about eight hours of toothache relief.

He said the store was all out of bottles and this was the only thing they had left.

When I lost my head about spending three dollars on two doses of Motrin when an entire bottle of 250 pills cost about $5, he calmly replied that if he'd come home without anything and saved the money he'd be up all night hearing me kvetch about my toothache.

So, he concluded, he didn't actually spend the $3 on meds for me. He spent three dollars on a guaranteed good night's sleep.

Economics indeed.

Invisible Me

2009-11-17T21:14:00.002-05:00

For all the nosey little fans out there already asking questions, here's some background on the new book.

One night, while I was in the middle of writing another novel (that I hope to get back to writing now IY"H,)I was in the mood of a challenge.

Writing was going too easily for me. It was just so simple to put the story to paper and I was bored.

So I came up with a concept. Not to write about mental illness, (as some people think is the point of this book), but to tell a story from inside the head of a girl who couldn't speak for herself.

I wondered if I could do it. If I could make a story happen, in first person narrative, from the perspective of a girl who could hear and feel but not add to a conversation. I wondered if I could tell her story and make things right for her and help her prove her worth even without her voice.

So Dini is a girl with Selective Mutism. The book though, is not about her disability. It isn't meant to be. The book is about relationships. Its about struggling to be heard and loved through the haze of things you say to fill empty spaces.

I wanted to see if I could have conversations without talking. And what it would look like if you only got to see one side; the side in Dini's head.

Targum Press did an excellent job with the book- they put different fonts for every time Dini writes a note and other fonts for the people in her life who write back. It's a fun book to read and also challenging.

Aside from the fun I had playing around with the literary side of it, it's emotional too. I wouldn't call it cheesy, because I don't go for the mushy stuff. (Unless we're talking chocolate cake in which case, bring it on!)

It's emotional just because it's frustrating living inside the mind of a bright, talented, otherwise normal girl, while being treated like a retard. My aim was to help the reader feel just as trapped as Dini is and feel along with her and see the story from her side.

The story is pure fiction. Like I said, it was just a dream on my part to challenge myself and see if I could do it. I'm bored of all the regular linear books out there. The plots are okay, but they all kind of mush together after a while. I wanted mine to stand out. Not so much because of the plot, but because you have to work to read it and so I hope it'll stay with readers a lot longer.

No, it's not another Miracle Ride. Nothing will ever be. But it's still worth reading. Not just because I wrote it, but because I really think it's good. *pats self on back*

So if you pick up a copy, let me know what you think!

NEW BOOK!!!

2009-11-17T18:08:00.001-05:00

It's HERE!!!

I just got my Author's copy and if I do say so myself, it looks good!!!

Check it out here!

Vampires Suck

2009-11-05T22:42:00.003-05:00

Edward Cullen- come and get me.

I went to donate blood today and no one wanted it!

I did everything; played nice, pleaded, begged, groveled, threatened to prick my own arm until they had to restrain me, but no cigar.

Parents lie to you to make you feel better, you know? When I was a kid and I was the only one covered head to toe with mosquito bites, my mother used to tell me I had "sweet blood" and that they all loved it.

But it can't be true. Because no one but those darned mosquitoes want it!

I think the Twilight franchise would go down the tubes if I offered the vampires my blood. They'd all be so horrified by it that they'd be turned off their love of blood like I was turned off sesame chicken on chemo and never look back.

The Jewish private blood drives never took my blood claiming they didn't want it after I'd had transfusions. Even though those transfusions were back in '03.

The place I went to today was horrified to hear that. They said it was illegal to turn down someone if it was more than a year since their last transfusion. They claimed that they needed blood donors badly enough that to turn away someone when the NY requirements said I was fine, was almost criminal. I was told by a regional director (named Carlos) that if anyone ever turned me down for that again, they could lose their license or something equally satisfying to me.

So don't ever say it to me again, you hear, because I got Carlos on my side.

But today it wasn't the transfusions stopping me.

I am a small person. I was built this way. There's nothing I can do to change the fact that I will probably never weigh enough to give a pint of blood to someone who needs it as badly as I once did.

I lied and said I was just a pound under the limit. I begged and said it was more like two pounds but could I please? I pleaded and said I was once a cancer patient and wanted to give back. I bargained and asked if I could just give red blood cells.

They put me on the scale. At a full eleven pounds under the limit, they gave me the free cookies out of pity but asked me to leave.

As a girl all I wanted was to be like my mother. The woman who helped build my father's business, raised nine kids by day, scrapbooked their pictures at night. Cooked one supper for us as a family and another every Sunday for Chai Lifeline. Ran with me to the hospital and then came home to PTA. Gave blood in the morning and then went rollerblading at night with us girls.

She's the goal I set all my life and I'm trying, even though I'll never match up. See, we have different blood types.

She's A- and I'm A+. So if it came down to it at the medical level- she won't ever want my blood either.

I'm feeling rejected.

Any vampires out there who like A+? My blood is looking for a good cause. If it can't be cancer kids, I don't mind Edward Cullen paying a visit...

Bro Scores, Yanks Win!

2009-11-04T22:30:00.001-05:00

Who flipping cares?

Don't get me wrong, I like the outdoors, I love playing games, I know all the rules. But rooting for some idiot who makes three million a year to hit a ball? C'mon. I don't even know the guy! And does he even care if I root for him or not? No! Cos he don't know me from beans either.

But still at my brother's wedding, there were all the guys, (and many of the gals I must add), on their blackberry's watching the game live on Fox.

As my brother was on stage swaying and praying, his friends in the audience were jumping with nerves as they watched the innings go down.

Every so often you had some kid, or half the assembled, pump a fist in the air and holler "Go YANKS! Whoooooooop whooooop!"

We're talking during the chuppah.

I would like to say I didn't see my brother's eyes flick up once or twice, inquiring about the score, but I can't be sure.

(Just kidding! My brother isn't into sports at all.)

Stupid sick people.

Well the Yanks won and the wedding was great and the couple is cute and my gown was nice and I had a miserable time with my cranky kids who are NEVER coming to a wedding with me again, so all is well, but reality check anyone?

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

2009-10-23T15:24:00.003-04:00

Got a call from the mother of a really depressed little girl losing her hair. We needed to find a way to cheer her up.

I sent her a clown sheitel with this poem:

So you wake up one morning and your hair starts to go
its all over your pillow and blanket and clothes

its itchy and depressing and feels so bad,
but it doesn't have to make you sad.

Yes, this may be the part where chemo takes over,
but its a great excuse for a make-over!

Have very straight hair and want to give curls a turn?
Get a sheitel with a nice frizzy perm

Or are you tired of breaking brushes in your curly messes?
Time for a straight look with easy smooth tresses

Like long and short, but cant decide which one?
Get two sets of hair and switch around for fun!

Go to school every day and make your friends guess
What way you decide to wear your hair next.

What about color? Would you look good as a blonde?
You never know, go try one on!

Black or brown might suit your head,
Go try some one, or what about red?

Or orange or purple with highlights green or blue.
What do you think? It's up to you!

I know your real hair is hard to part with,
but here's some new hair just to start with.

The Truth

2009-10-21T23:50:00.003-04:00

It's been on my mind a while, but I never said anything because I don't know what to do about it really.

I'm not "Me" anymore.

The reason I decided to actually post about this is because tonight I've been skimming through some old emails and found one written by a fellow blogger (Though I doubt she still reads my post after that email she sent me) telling me that since my book came out I've become different. She said I used to be funny and spunky and now I was some big headed speaker and writer who enjoyed being full of myself.

So she's not wrong. I like being full of myself. But serisously, I know what she means and I know why it happened.

When this blog began I was a kid. It was read by only my friends and those that weren't my friends had no idea who I was. I kvetched about chemo and talked miserably about those annoying chessed doers and said funny things to Santa Claus when he tried to give me X-mas gifts. And I was allowed to say all that, because who was I? I was just some anonymous stinker writing a blog.

Suddenly, I'm not anonymous anymore. And there's this pressure. This need to conform and this fear of saying all that stuff I used to, of being the pain in the neck teen I used to be.

But in real life I'm not this way, so it irks me.

Because in the life I really lead these crazy things are still happening to me and I'm still sassing back and enjoying every minute of it.

But I can't quite post on the blog how my son sings "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead" every time I mention my mother-in-law, can I?

And I'm sure my husband would find it weird if I told you he knocked himself out by opening the car door while he was texting and hit himself on the head and needed me to drive his dizzy bleeding self to get stitches.

I could tell you how my sukkah blew away two weeks ago but not about the snooty conversation I had with the con-ed guy.

Cos now my blog is more real. And I'm afraid of hurting people and afraid of hurting myself.

It was very hard after Miracle Ride was published and people began judging me, the real me, for all the things I said there. I found this last year and a half I was busy defending myself to annoying readers who thought they had a right to judge me and my story. There were lots of compliments too, don't worry, but I'm sick of trying to be a nice normal girl for all the people who feel they have to comment all the time.

I miss the days where I could just rant to the world about my insane life. Cos my life is funny. Always good for a laugh. But now that you guys all know me, it's different.

But now I started finding my posts kind of boring. Like each one had to have a lesson, like I'm some sort of rebbetzin. In fact, someone so close to me started calling me "Rebbetzin" and it bothers me, because our friendship isn't the same as it was.

I want to be able to post funny stuff again, randomly, for no reason. Think you'd still read my blog if I did? Or would you call me a hypocrite or wishy washy or any of those other names people have called me in this last year and a half?

I'm afraid of being Me again. People think that I'm something I'm not and for the last year plus I've been trying to live to that standard but I can see it just aint working.

So I want to rewind. Go back to being that crazy person who never gets it right. My blog used to tell this story of my weird and funny life. Maybe I can do it again?

I sure wanna try, but I'm still not sure how to do it. Lots of what happens in my life involves real people and real emotions and I'm afraid of hurting them.

Bas-Melech, in a comment to my last post, congratulated me on rejoining the masses. Now I want to do so for real.

But I don't know how. And I need your advice. Please be kind.

And that's the truth.

A Dressing Down

2009-10-20T09:30:00.008-04:00

People think that just because I was sick and got over it that nothing small in my life ever gets to me. That unless it's something hugely monumental happening, it has no effect.

Let me assure you, that is not the case.

People email me all the time and preface by saying, "you probably think I'm crazy or overreacting, compared to all you went through," and sometimes, yeah, you might be overreacting, but hey, sometimes I hyperventilate too.

And it doesn't make me a shallow person. It makes me normal.

Yes, five years ago I was fighting for my life, but now I'm living my life. And part of life are the frustrating little bits that can bring me to tears a lot faster than chemo did.

For example, (and if anyone dares to laugh at my misery, I will ban you from reading this blog,) take Sunday.

I was up Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday nights with my baby who is teething (yet again). Motzai Shabbos we were at an all time record where I was up six times between one and four in the morning and then up at six for the day.

At three thirty I ran out with my mother and sister, leaving the husband with both kids so that I could go to my last gown fitting before the brother's wedding.

Guess what. The gown don't fit.

I don't know if it was just made wrong, taken in wrong, or I'm built wrong, but that thing didn't look right no matter what we did.

I am not a picky person when it comes to these things, and spent the next two hours trying on 25 other dresses. Nothing doing.

Everything was too big or too fluffy or too nightgowny-looking, and almost all of them made me look thirteen. In fact, when my mother saw some girl trying on a stunning gown that she thought I'd look nice in, the girl was thirteen.

When after two hours, at closing time,I still had no gown, I threw a temper tantrum in the gown place.

I know, real mature.

I was sobbing all over some huge fluffy dress at how I was up since some unholy hour and now I was going to look ugly at my brother's wedding and no one cared and I just wasn't going to come, and I hated looking like I was still in high school...you get the picture.

So in a last-minute-no-choice-in-the-matter decision, we ran to another bridal shop that rents for DOUBLE the amount I was spending before (and it was NOT cheap to begin with, mind you!) and within fifteen minutes rented another gown.

I still came home and cried all night.

What? I'm entitled to want to feel pretty at the wedding! I never got to wear a gown before! I missed most of my sister's wedding to give birth to JB and I was really looking forward to being pretty next week.

One of the things I learned when I was sick was that no one has it easy. It doesn't matter that I had Hodgkins' and that my friend had a brain tumor, we were both suffering. Who's to say that one of us suffered more? How would you know?

Sure, crying about dresses might have seemed petty to me when I was bald and attached to an IV pole all the time, but hey, I would have given anything to be so innocent. I'd have loved for the most devastating thing in my life to be about a dress.

So I'm going to take this whole gown fiasco as an excuse to be grateful. I'm so happy that I'm at a time in my life where I can cry over a silly gown. I'm healthy, I have two cutie kids, a wonderful husband (who made my daughter a bottle with RICE instead of FORMULA)and in the end, a great gown to dance in at that wedding.

I used to feel awkward around those "shallow" people in my life, but for once, I can appreciate being one of them.

(what JB is wearing to the wedding. Couldn't resist.)

New Article Out!

2009-10-01T22:03:00.002-04:00

Check out my short story/article in the Mishpacha's Teen Pages this week. It's called The FBI.

Lemme know what y'all think!

Just as Holy

2009-09-28T22:40:00.002-04:00

I spent Erev Yom Kippur in tears.

It was just nerves, I think. I always get this way before a fast. There's this anticipation of what it will turn out like, all these questions and worries in my mind. Will I fast okay? Will the kids behave? Will I manage them on my own? Will I get to daven? All that stuff and just general nerves of getting everything right.

This year nothing went right.

The day before was just a disaster, with my son kvetchy and bratty since the wee hours of the morning (he's still getting over a flu he had last week). I had to entertain him, plus do a mountain of laundry, (my daughter has some reflux and she vomits indiscriminately,) plus take care of baths for everyone and the meals and telling all the neighbor girls that no, it was not a good time for them to take a guided tour of my home.

(Why is it that they are all so enamored by our little family? There are a million girls on the block that each have great toy rooms and games and yet they all want to play with JB's trucks?!)

I bentched lecht, put the kids to bed, and exhausted, fell asleep with my machzor in my hands.

Upon waking half an hour later I found I was miserable. It's been years since I've missed a Kol Nidrei in shul. And this year I didn't even want to go.

I sat there in front of my lecht and just cried at how Yom Kippur didn't feel the same to me- I was in my robe, wearing a shmattah velour hoodie on top of it, and not even in a sheitel. The white tichel that I wore with so much pride all the years sat in my drawer all yom tov. I didn't put my sheitel on once today.

I spent the entire day on the floor playing with Tonka trucks. My machzor in one hand as I tried to daven, the mini wheels garbage truck in the other, crashing into JB's emergency vehicle, keeping him quiet.

My kids ate junk today and I didn't care. I forgot to turn off the light in my fridge, so all the nutritional stuff I prepared erev YT just stayed there. JB ate potato chips and sandwiches and lots and lots of Twerps, and HB had a bunch of formula bottles and not an ounce of real food except for the Craisins JB generously fed her while I was in the middle of my Al Chaits.

And when my kids both went down for a nap, I did too. My tehillim this year didn't even make it off the shelf.

It just didn't feel like Yom Kippur to me.

Then my mother popped by on the way back to shul after the break between Shacharis and Mussaf and when she asked how my fast was going and I told her how I felt, she said it was okay.

That I had my years in shul as a teen, and I'll have them again when my kids are teens. But now my place is at home.

She's right, I know. It just took a lot of getting used to. I'm still not sure I'm used to the idea and next year won't be any easier not being in shul for Unesaneh Tokef. But the truth is... well, that's the truth.

For me Yom Kippur is the avodah I do with my children all day. Feeding them, playing with them, singing songs and reading playgroup "shailos" thousands of times makes this day just as holy for me as being in shul makes it for everyone else.

So when my mother left and I took my nap and then woke up and took the kids outside to play, I didn't let myself feel bad. I fasted, I davened, and I made two kids happy today.

Other years I prayed for these two kids, this year they're here with me. What more can I want?

So the holiest day of my year smelled like peanut butter and spit up, instead of leather bindings and old machzor pages.

Guess what. G-d gave me a job. And He made me a mom to two very special and wonderful kids. And that makes me heilig. Even when I spent Yom Kippur playing with trucks.

May we all see the kedusha in everything we do this year.

Have a gut gebentched yahr everyone.

Oh, and two updates.

#1 - HB finally got her place in the nosh cabinet. She's not really a jelly ring like we first thought she might be. She's BUBBLES. (Short for BubbleGum) She answers to it and the neighbors call her that, so it's official. JellyBean's sister is Bubbles.

And #2 - Tzipi's next book is due out Chanukah time. It's titled "Invisible Me" and being published by Targum Press IY"H. I'll keep you posted!

Video of HB

2009-09-10T23:56:00.002-04:00

I don't have a Video on hand of JB, but here's one I took of HB today. She was playing peek-a-boo with me. It was so random and so cute that I ran to get the camera!

As Per Your Request...

2009-08-27T10:58:00.001-04:00

Out of the Woodwork

2009-08-26T21:06:00.002-04:00

I don't apologize for my posts or lack of them. This is MY blog and I post when I wanna. So I've been in and out gone almost the entire year; What can I say? It was a big year.

Well now that I'm out of the woodwork, this is exactly what I wanted to blog about.

Two very interesting stories happened to me over the summer.

The first:

My brother was engaged over the summer and while we are all very excited, that has nothing to do with my story except for that it happened the night of the vort.

I needed to be at my parents house to set up early and I had the kids with me so I didn't prepare any supper for my family because we spent the entire day around food.

My husband though, came home from work starving and went out to find himself a slice of pizza. He'd usually go to a local shop a few blocks away from the house but because he needed to do a bank deposit, he drove across town and got into line at a pizza store there.

As he was waiting in line he recognized the person standing a few people in front of him. He was wearing a microscopic yarmulka and had a very closely trimmed beard. He was a very obvious chassidish used-to-be. Not that my husband can tell these things, but my husband remembered when he was in yeshiva together with the guy and he had long peyos that reached his shoulders.

My husband, when he recounted this incident to me later told me that when he saw the guy he literally shuddered remembering how he used to torture him in school. They knew each other as kids, before their bar-mitzvahs, and this boy, who was two years older than my husband, used to make his life hell.

We're talking stealing his lunch, tearing his books, beating him up, the works.

My husband said he remembered that the boy left yeshiva at thirteen and hit the streets and had a rough couple of years on drugs and hanging out with a really bad crowd.

He hadn't heard from him in over 20 years and was surprised to see that he was still around and obviously frum again.

Just for kicks my husband called out the guy's name to see what would happen.

The guy, (let's call him Joel because I'm getting tired of calling him Guy) turned around, saw my husband, and within seconds was hugging and kissing him and crying on his shoulder.

In front of at least 30 people in the store.

My husband was shocked that he recognized him, but Joel kept crying and said he was looking for my husband for over fifteen years to ask him forgiveness.

He didn't want to go into details in public but told my husband he was suffering terribly and he had long ago decided that whatever he was suffering from was because of four boys he had hurt as a kid.

He spent years tracking three of them down and asked them for mechila, but could never get hold of my husband.

He said he read newspapers all the time looking to see if any mazal tov ads were every printed with his name in it and asked around about him.

A few months ago he'd seen an ad in a paper that a man with my husband's name was making a kiddush for a baby girl and he wanted to go but he was afraid that if it really was my husband maybe he wouldn't be so glad to see him.

In any case, he was sobbing in the pizza place that night as my husband told him he forgave him with all his heart and wished him only mazal in his life from that point forward.

My husband walked in to my brother's vort almost two hours late and literally shaking with amazement.

That's the first story.

Now comes the second, not as amazing one.

Two nights ago I couldn't sleep.

This NEVER happens to me, especially since the baby was born.

But that night I drank like two ounces of cola before bed (because normally even coke can't keep me from my sleep) and I was tossing and turning for 45 minutes before getting up and turning on my computer to catch up on some articles and emails I needed to write.

My computer automatically opens my instant messenger program when Windows starts and so as I was working I was also able to see which of my friends were online at the time with me. It was almost one in the morning by then.

Out of the blue, a schoolmate I never IM with popped up on screen to schmooze. Happens to be, she was telling me she met my brother's kallah and she was so sweet etc, but after a few minutes she told me that she really felt stupid but she had to ask me forgiveness.

She said that she was up that night because something was bothering her and when she opened her computer and saw me online it just hit her. She said she remembered that when we were in school together she and a bunch of other classmates were mean and quite cruel to me.

I actually remember it well but got over it. I didn't take it personally then and I haven't thought about those girls in a long time.

She said she can admit it now that they were all just jealous of me, but she still felt awful about it. She even reminded me of two times, two different years when we were put together in the same group for a project and I was the one who did all the work while the other 5 or 6 girls bailed on me. BOTH YEARS.

In the end the entire group got an A+ for my efforts.

I remember it, but like I said, I'm so over it.

Well, she wasn't and wanted to ask forgiveness.

Now, that's all very nice and moving, but something bothers me.

Not that fact that both my husband and I were treated badly in school, but the fact that it took YEARS for these people to ask mechila.

My husband and I are both happy well adjusted people and these incidents were long buried for both of us. Apparently though, other people were suffering and just now decided to seek us out.

That kind of gets me. The coming out of the woodwork now. When it's convenient for them. When they need us. OUR mechila.

Where were they then? When we suffered?

This is not to say I don't forgive my classmate with all my heart, I actually am so impressed and flattered that she remembered this after so much time. But why do people do the kinds of things that hurt other people and then only come back to ask forgiveness when, oh gosh, something goes wrong in their lives.

I dunno, I guess I can't expect us all to be sensitive and loving all the time, but maybe being a little more considerate and watchful isn't too much to ask?

It is chodesh Elul after all. Something to think about?

What's up My Sleeve

2009-07-09T23:23:00.001-04:00

My son hates short sleeve weather.

It means he has no sleeve to wipe his nose in.

Well, normally, when it comes to short sleeve weather, we’re not thinking about runny noses, but this year its proving to be different. With all the rain we’ve been having my son is proving very ingenious when it comes to finding what to wipe his nose in.

I’ve found streaks on my skirts and on the shoulders of my shirts and even one or two on my bandannas.

He’s used his little sister’s fuzzy blanket and even once his own.

And nothing I say can make him stop.

But that’s the way it is with kids. They sneeze without tissues and take matters into their own hands.

They just don’t get what the hem of a shirt is for if not for wiping their chins.

And obviously, rain boots aren’t as fun as splashing in puddles with sandals that let your feet actually get soaked.

And duh, hair is the perfect place to wipe your hands in after you get them full of ketchup.

G-d is a master planner. He knew what He was doing when he gave these kids ears to stick pennies into and nostrils for beans and little bits of paper.

But runny noses in the cuffs of his shirt get to me. Cos that’s just icky.

Then again, the other night I was up at some unholy hour taking care of a whining baby.

For the last two months every night has been another story and every night I convince myself that it’s only tonight, and that tomorrow we’ll be back on schedule.

Tomorrow never came.

Or maybe it did but I was too tired to notice.

Or maybe it just wasn’t different enough from the night before that it was impossible to differentiate without coffee but I gave up caffeine a long time ago.

So that night was the 62nd night in a row without sleep and I just about had it.

I contemplated letting her cry and then realized it would just wake up my son who would end up crying too and just the thought of that made me cry.

And at four in the morning I found myself sobbing with frustration and tiredness and also so much love for that round little face that only wanted her mommy and guess what?

I’ll tell you a little secret but only if you promise my kids will never know.

Sometimes… Mommies wipe their noses in their sleeves too.

Chazak Hotline Speech

2009-06-23T11:05:00.003-04:00

I just spoke for Chazak Hotline! It was so much fun even though the first three minutes aren't that great because I was nervous. It was weird telling my story to a phone that didn't talk back but when I got up to talk in front of the mirror it started sounding a lot better. :-)

Go have a listen and tell me what you think!

718-258-2008 or 845-356-6665. You need to press #3 to hear "Inspiration for Life's Challenges". Then press #2 for Whatever that option is, and then I'm speech number 55#.

Enjoy!

Making Moments

2009-06-10T22:31:00.002-04:00

I was feeding them supper one evening last week
and I was slouching exhausted in my chair.
I was counting the hours till the day would end
When they’d be sleeping and out of my hair.

I danced around the kitchen, and tricked them into eating
And sang till my throat was sore
And even though I wanted to sit down and cry
I tried to be patient when they wanted more.

I waited all day for this family time
But when it came it just messed with my head,
And I felt so bad that all I could think,
Was how long until I could ship them to bed

I glanced at the clock, another hour to go
So I gave them dessert to pass time
My son was ecstatic as I sat down on the floor
and waited for the hour to chime

And I was sad that it seemed that they all were like this
Each day just blurred into the next
And I wondered when I was going to make big memories
Days that stood out from the rest

I wondered which today's would be part of tomorrow
Which parts they’d take with when a new sun showed its face
Or which days of their lives they’d never recall
Hazy memories stored in some forgotten place.

And it made me sad all through their bath
Where we blew bubbles and tickled and splashed
And after that they got dressed and jumped on my bed
And made their tired old mommy laugh

It seemed so depressing, yet another evening
With no strength to make memories for keeps.
Instead trying to smile during their nightly routine
And waiting till they were asleep.

And when they became quiet later,
One in my arms, and my shoulder supporting the other one’s head
I kissed their cheeks and hugged them tight
And brought them each to their own beds.

I worried about those memories,
When we’d make them and what they would be.
Would they be of happy times of laughter and joy
Or of a tired and cranky old me.

And then my son called from deep in his dreams
He woke up for one last hug good night.
He snuggled up to me close and kissed me so cute
And I too held on to him tight.

Then I knew suddenly that as blurry as they get
Each night helps to build a new dawn
And that the hugs and the laughs and the bubbles we splashed
Will help us all keep moving on

And my daughter smiled in her sleep, don’t know what she was dreaming
But my evening lost some of its gloom
I felt so much lighter after that hug and her grin
And felt happy as I left their room

I realized its not the big memories but the little moments,
Not the big days but just small tiny parts
Those are the minutes that last through the tomorrows,
Nestled somewhere in their little hearts.

So I vowed to make more of the today’s.
Hug tighter, smile bigger, laugh real
To stop worrying about the memories I wanted to make
And to love the precious moments we steal.

Sometimes I Wish.

2009-05-25T16:29:00.004-04:00

Sometimes I wish for the time where I was just another kid in high school.
Sometimes I wish for the time when I was just another newlywed wife on the street.
But then I'd be giving up who I am now and all those people I've gotten to know and help and learn from in this last year.

Sometimes I wish for the days when Mommy's kiss made everything better.
Sometimes I wish for when a band-aid took all pains away,
But then I'd be giving up the experience and the biggest times of growth of my life.

Sometimes I wish for the late nights spent laughing with my friends.
Sometimes I wish for the early mornings I used to go rollerblading with my mother before school.
But then I'd be giving up the midnight feedings and the happy "git morgen Mommy!" I get every day.

Sometimes I wish for the man who used to take me on dates when we were engaged.
Sometimes I wish for the man who came home only to me.
But then I'd be giving up the man who proudly gives piggyback rides and mushy kisses to our kids.

Sometimes I wish for the days when I'd leave my bed unmade cos no one noticed.
Sometimes I wish for the days when I'd clean the house and it'd stay that way.
But then I'd be giving up on happy faces smeared with sticky lollipop goop and floors scattered with beloved toys.

Sometimes I wish for the easy black and white, right and wrong of my childhood.
Sometimes I wish for the shades of grey of my political teenage years.
But then I'd be giving up the world of primary colors and rainbows I live in now.

Sometimes I may wish but I never forget what I already have.

Setting Ourselves Free

2009-04-02T20:18:00.003-04:00

I know I haven't posted in a while, just been way busy. Have another book in the works that had to get finished and then of course there is Pesach coming and my little munchkins who take up all my time.

But tonight I have some breathing room (please please please don't wake up for another twenty minutes till I finish posting!!!) so I figured it was only right to come here and post.

So here goes.

A few weeks ago my friend who comments here quite a bit, itsagift, sent me an awesome quote.

"Resentment is like drinking poison and then waiting for the other person to die."

This quote just hit me so hard I couldn't delete her email. I fell in love with the truth of it and the great message it had.

I wanted to blog about it for a while but I guess it's appropriate that it waited for now- right before Pesach.

You know, each of us have people in our lives who have hurt us and caused us some miserable times. They're hard to forgive and let go of. I know. I've had plenty of hurts myself.

But twenty years, or even twenty minutes after the event, when you're still smarting at what this person may have done to you, do you think they're thinking about you too? Do you think that all the years you wasted hating them and wishing things would have worked out differently are being hated and wished away by that other person as well?

I doubt it.

Once, I worked for someone who made my life a living hell for as long as I was their employment. I used to come home with stories and tears and literally shaking with anger after a day at work.

One Thursday, I had a fallout with my employer over something stupid. I was asking for advice on how to deal with a certain situation that had come up and was told quite bluntly that my employer believed that I caused the whole thing and that if I would not be "Me" then it never would have happened.

Understandably I got pretty upset and said that if my place of work would be a little more accommodating to its employees THEN it never would have happened.

So the boss tells me unceremoniously that if I really felt that way I should look for a new job.

I spent all Shabbos alternately seething and fuming and then crying and pouting.

Until my husband, wise man that he is (and no, I would not say this to his face but if he'd read my blog he's welcome to the compliment) asked me, "While you killed your entire Shabbos, and by the way, killed mine as well, do you think that your employer wasted even one second thinking about you?"

And then it smacked me over the head. No. She didn't. She couldn't care less about me. I was just a fly she swatted and walked away. Yeah, too bad for me that I was the fly left dying on the floor, but she COULDN'T CARE LESS.

And then I realized that I wasted a good 48 hours of my life on someone who didn't deserve those 48 hours of my life.

And it was over.

I left that job. I realized that this person not only didn't deserve my moping, she didn't deserve the time, effort, and the heart that I put into my job to begin with.

And for that I am a much happier person.

I still have to remind myself sometimes to stop driving myself crazy for people who won't even care, but it's a good thing to remember. Because in the end, by allowing myself to be miserable, I am HELPING that other person hurt me.

Imagine if the person who caused you all that pain knew how deeply it hurt you- that you were thinking about it and resenting it for years after. I can just hear the evil laugh. "I thought I could get her down for five minutes max, didn't dream I'd get it going for five years! I am gooood! MWAHAHAHH!"

LOL's aside, there's another aspect to this.

Forget people.

I get asked all the time how come I don't resent the years in my life that I suffered, missed out on being a regular kid, went through what no one should ever know of.

Well, I guess you can say I learned a good lesson. It's not worth it. Those were years that Hashem had planned for me. And as hard as they were, they were going to happen whether I liked it or not. They NEEDED to happen because I had to grow from them. And only those particular circumstances could have made me the exact person I am today.

And a little bigheadedness here- I LIKE the person I am today.

So how can I waste the next five years of my life being miserable about those five months that were only stepping stones?

Resentment is a choice. You just have to realize it. And you need to realize that the health food store don't carry it, just because it ain't healthy. It's poison.

So I think it's perfect for this time of year. Pesach is about letting go- becoming free. But really, the key to most freedoms in this world lies within us. So let's decide to let go this year. Smile, and make the world wonder what you're up to.

If I don't get to the blog again before Pesach -have a kosher'n freylichen yom tov everyone!

And I should have prayed for Moshiach earlier, turns out Hashem was listening. HB JUST started wailing- like she was waiting for the end of my post. :-)

Purim in the Bronx (Zoo)

2009-03-11T12:34:00.005-04:00

My kids dressed up as animals yesterday (JB was a kangaroo and HB was a bear) so this is the poem I wrote to hand out with our shalach manos...

Back in Shushan many years ago

Bee-gan the tail I now recall,

When Achashveirosh made a mishteh

For nobles, and pheasants, his subjects all.

He was proud as a peacock

Of the riches he possessed,

And he couldn’t wait to show off Vashti,

His deer queen to all the rest.

But Vashti was acting catty,

She couldn’t bear the way she looked.

The king got annoyed at her otter disrespect,

And decided her goose was cooked.

But then Achashveirosh was sheepish

When he realized he had caused a scene.

And so he sent out announcers throughout the streets,

“Hare ye! We’re looking for a new queen!”

Hagai was a man with a porpoise,

He was the cardinal royal beautician,

He was ticked when Esther ignored his help,

And heron in became a man with a mission.

But Esther didn’t need any of it,

People used to crane their necks when they spider.

The other girls got crabby and thought she was a cheetah,

But as queen, no one could fight her.

Of course her identity as a Jewish girl,

Was kept quiet at a mouse

The mystery was like an elephant in the room,

But the king still made her queen of the house.

Bigsan and Seresh planned to kill the monarch,

But by Mordechai were overheard

He stopped the sly foxes from using snake venom on the king,

And watched the traitors hung up with the birds.

The court squirreled out of Mordechai’s reward

Even though he was Esther’s relation,

Because Haman came in raven about a new plan,

And it created quite a sensation.

“Please don’t be chicken” he said to the king,
“Owl take care of it all, you know.

Just please let me kill all the Jews in your kingdom!”

And Achashveirosh said, “Llama lo?”

Mordechai told Esther about this fishy plan

And asked her to have something arranged.

She told the Yidden to fast for three days

And she’d see if the king’s tuna could be changed.

She went in to the king bone tired and thin,

Cowering with fear,

But he sent out his seal and nodded to her

And said he was ready to hare.

Esther ducked her head shyly and quietly asked,

If he’d come to her for a spell.

She’d serve lamb and turkey and other nice things.

And said Haman was invited as well.

That night dressed in her most beautiful boa

Esther asked the king if it was alright

If she hosted another party,

“Bear with me one more night.”

Later Haman went running back to Achashveirosh

Even though he was in pajamas and crocs,

His head was so abuzz with the plans that he had

He ran in and forgot to knock.

The king was sitting up in his own comfy mules,

He had a dilemur he was mooseing over you see.

He needed to honor Mordechai,

But Haman thought, “Whale, he must mean me!”

So though Haman plotted to kill the Tzaddik,

He ended up leading Mordechai’s horse instead.

He crowed to the streets about what a fine man he was.

And his own daughter dumped a pigsty on his head!

He wished he could bow out of Esther’s gathering that night,

His day had gone to the dogs anyway.

But he was told to furget that plan,

And hurry over to the palace without delay.

At the party Esther whaled on him,

By crying to the king about Haman the shark,

The king hawkishly sentenced him to death on the spot,

“Get him out of my sight!” He barked.

“I’m sorry I exposed him for lion and cheatin’”

Esther apologized as Haman and his family hung,

(Along his wife Zeresh and his son Dolphin,)

But the king said “Don’t worry about that skunk.”

We Jews are not Man o’ war,

But we won a battle then,

It was our victory over Amalek

We roared our thanks to Hashem.

Today its years and years later,

And we still don’t let anything bug us in this special time,

We carry our feathers in our caps.

Cos we’re proud of our heritage so fine!

Pigeon to make this the best Purim ever

By keeping happy but careful too,

Make sure to stay safe, act like mentchen, not chayos,

Even though Purim can feel like a zoo!

A Freilichen Purim!

B'simcha!

2009-03-03T15:33:00.003-05:00

JB dancing his head off. Taking a break from dancing on MY head...

Sharing Simchos!

2009-02-22T21:58:00.003-05:00

We were due three days apart but our little girls ended up with a 19 day gap between their birthdays.

My friend "Michal" from my book just gave birth to a playmate for HB this morning! She sounds great even though she's not resting up enough (I am one to talk because I am three weeks down the road and know what she's about to face...) and she's just thrilled to be a mommy.

Her daughter is making up for the 19 day gap by weighing more at birth than HB does at almost three weeks old, so I just know they'll be great friends with a lot in common.

I should really add some of these last posts as a P.S. in the book now that Miracle Ride is going into its third printing. :-). People keep asking me for updates on all the characters in the book- and B"H there's been a lot of happy stuff going on for us.

May we only share simchos!

Small Steps

2009-02-18T12:32:00.003-05:00

Taking life day by day gets easier when you remember to appreciate the small things. :-) And it gets better when you remember to smile. Oh, and take lots of cute pictures. :-)

Of Life and Linen

2009-02-17T13:22:00.002-05:00

And Real Life goes on!

Taking it day by day is easier than it sounds. Especially when the last few days have been full of unexpected surprises.

Before this baby came I prepared like crazy- made suppers and froze them, stocked my pantry, prepared the baby room and gear from JB, all that fun stuff. So I wasn't worried about bringing JB back home less than two weeks after HB was born because I knew I could manage.

What I didn't know was...

-JB would cry himself to sleep the first two nights home because he lost his pacifier and because he missed being at his grandparents' house.

-Late Sunday night my boiler was going to conk out on me.

-HB was going to cry all Sunday night.

-HB was going to wake up JB at 6am.

-We would have to spend all Monday at my parents house for the heat.

-The plumber wouldn't be able to fix my boiler.

-There would be no one to call for emergency service because of President's Day.

-I was going to go back home with two electric heaters.

-...That would stop working at 11pm.

-HB was going to wake up for her feeding at precisely the time that JB vomited all over his crib.

-JB was going to puke all over my husband's bed while I was washing his linen.

-HB was going to cry while I did three more laods of laundry and JB threw up on my floor.

-I was going to be listening to Mrs. Himmelstein invite Mrs. Pitkin to her nephew Lemel's bar mitzvah at 4am. (Shmuel Kunda- JB likes to fall asleep to it.)

-I was going to be woken at 6 again for a feeding.

-JB was going to wake me up at 7.

-JB was not finished throwing up.

-JB was STILL not finished throwing up.

-HB was going to wake up while JB decided to throw up AGAIN.

-They were both going to finally fall asleep on stripped cribs and beds and I would be stuck in my freezing house still in pajamas at 1:20 pm wanting to go for a nap, but waiting for my linen to come out of the dryer...

Ah, real life. Feels wonderful to be normal again.

If anyone sees a squishy pink thing laying around or maybe even strolling the streets, I seem to have lost my mind some time ago. I'd like it back. :-)

Back to Real Life

2009-02-15T21:04:00.002-05:00

So, HB is almost two weeks old and JB is back home with me and life goes back to normal. Except it's not really back to normal for me because I've never experienced life with two babies. So this is more like a brand new major adjustment period rather than regular life.

I remember feeling something like this after I finished chemo. It was like getting used to life all over again. It was so confusing and scary and maybe even a little depressing at times when I realized that my old life was never coming back. That as much as I grew and gained from my experiences, I still missed a part of whom I was before but I could never go back.

From what I've heard, lots of cancer patients feel that way after getting better. The whole time they were sick they couldn't wait to be back in the real world, get back to their real lives, but when they finally got out there again they discovered that the real world didn't wait. It moved on without them. And their real lives? All of a sudden they have to reassess what that even means.

All day today I was battling some New Mommy Blues , fighting it back as I had my first regular "back to normal" day. I took my kids (feels so funny to say that! My Kids :-) ) to Toys R Us for some baby gear and for a butt-day present for JB. There were a load of screaming monsters all over the place and my son wasted no time exercising his lungs too.

I thought I would go out of my mind or at the very least have a screaming fit as well.

In the end, we left with JB's present of choice- a big 15" ball that cost all of $2.16 (may all his future wants and needs hurt my pocket no more than this did) and with a splitting headache.

I felt like crying all through the afternoon when HB made through three pampers and two undershirts in a row and then through the bath that JB refused to take and then through bedtime which JB and HB cried themselves blue and where I ran from one to the other until JB cried himself to sleep (he lost his pacifier last night at his grandfather's house) and until HB had her bath and spit up some more formula on her (used to be) clean (ten minutes ago) stretchie, and conked out as well.

I feel bratty about this- like I should be so thankful that I have this wonderful family but instead I'm just wishing to go back to two weeks ago when I was in charge (mostly) of my hormones and to when I could sleep 8 hours (if I took Tylenol for the lower back pain) a night, and to when I had an excuse not to wear heels on Shabbos.

I felt bratty after chemo too- I knew I had to be thrilled that I was well again, but it took a long time until I got settled enough to be able to look back and appreciate it. Those first few months were awful. Yes, I got engaged and married in those months, but daily life was hard. I struggled to get used to the world where it was when I rejoined it. And it was hard after having missed out so much.

So even though some will say that I'm just hormonal (just not in front of my husband please, he hates that word...) and I have no qualms about agreeing with you there- I will also say that I am adjusting. And that adjusting is just as hard as dealing with mood swings. And that adjusting WITH mood swings is harder. And that adjusting with mood swings AND sleepless nights is a killer. So bear with me world. I'm catching up as fast as I can.

But I'm learning. Or at least remembering. That the great things in our lives come at some sort of price. But not in a bad way. Just in a way that makes us appreciate them even more once we get past the rough spots.

One day down, and we'll keep doing it one day at a time.

Or one night at a time- kids are sleeping finally, so that's my cue. Mommies of newborns are allowed to go to bed before ten p.m. It's the only way they stay sane. Or at least partly so.

The Name

2009-02-09T21:41:00.004-05:00

I might as well start from the beginning if I'm already going to tell you my daughter's name.

We'll start with JB.

JB of course is only a nickname. When he was born he was so tiny that we joked he looked like a jellybean all curled up in a little ball. So we called him JB for a week until his bris and the name kind of stuck.

But his real name is Shimon. For R' Shimon bar Yochai. He was not born Lag Ba'omer time- JB's birthday is actually this Shabbos, but my husband's grandfather was named for R' Shimon and he requested that anyone named after him should never add a second name because it wasn't his name to pass on- it belonged to R' Shimon. So JB in his other offline life is also called Shimi. Or Monster. Or Stinker. Or cutie-patutey. Or if he's really misbehaving, SHIMON HALEVI "CATON"!!!!!

JR's name is Hadassah Bracha.

Hadassah is for my great grandmother whose real name was Esther Malka. We couldn't give Esther Malka because we already have another family member by that name. So because of the Purim story where Esther HaMalka is also called Hadassah, we chose to remember her by that name instead.

Bracha is her second name and it's after the woman my great grandfather married when Esther Malka was niftar. She was a quiet person, a very special soul, who never had any children of her own. I felt very strongly about giving my daughter her name because she was such a fine person and because she deserved to be remembered even though she had none of her own children and grandchildren to pass on her name.

Another reason I felt strongly about the name Bracha is because of the timing that my daughter was born. 5 years and 5 days off chemo- a week into my life out of remission. She's really a bracha to me at this time- just a sign that my life is going so well, and that every day that I am well and the fact that I have a husband and two beautiful kids is a gift from Hashem.

So there you go- another big peek into Tzipi Caton's personal life...

And for the poster who asked why I never put up pictures of my husband- Well he's shy. And because he agreed to be MY husband, not Tzipi Caton's. So I need to respect that this is my story that I chose to tell, not his. But I'll tell him he's being asked after- I know he'll get a kick out of it.

Meet JR!

2009-02-04T22:09:00.004-05:00

Five years may have passed, but I still hate hospitals, so I'm home a little bit early and back with pictures to show you all.

They're not especially great, but that's what having a new baby is about- a bunch of messy pictures taken by overwhelmed husbands and excited grandmas.

So Jellyring (no name until Shabbos) weighed 6lbs 6oz (2 oz more than JB) and came in an inch shorter than him at 18".

She's so far really cute and quiet and lovable and I'm really looking forward to getting to know her and being her mommy.

JB is thrilled with her. He keeps trying to give her a pacifier and a bottle and was very taken with her little fingers. He giggled when she cried, he thought it was hilarious that something so tiny can squeak. It's his birthday this week and he is sure that Mommy and Tatty bought him this baby as a "Butt-Day" present.

Wait till he finds out that this present can't just go back in the toy bin when he's bored of it!

Thanks everyone for the Mazal Tov wishes! IY"H simchos by all of us!

Adding to the Nosh Cabinet....

2009-02-03T08:53:00.000-05:00

Not a very well written post but a good one still...

We get a mazal tov!

JB has a sibling- a little baby sister. We'll call her JellyRing for now, JR for short.

Details will come when I get home and can post from something other than a BlackBerry.

IY"H only oif simchas by all of us!

Because I Can and so I Did

2009-01-28T21:38:00.007-05:00

Tonight I let my son stay up late and we played together. Just because I like to hear him laugh and because I'm grateful that he's here with me and because Mommies can push off bedtimes if they want to because I can and so I did.

Tonight I baked a cake and I just took it out of the oven and it smells delicious. Just because I was in the mood and because I know it will make my husband smile and because I had too much cocoa sitting in my pantry and because I can and so I did.

Tonight I took a sponge and crawled up on the counter to clean in the corners behind my sink. Just because they were dusty and because I wanted them clean and because I like climbing onto countertops and because I can and so I did.

Tonight I washed the floors with Mr Clean and now my house is spotless. Just because I like the smell of lemons and because the smell also reminds me of Fruity Pebbles cereal and because the floors were dirty and because I can and so I did.

Tonight I spent an hour schmoozing to my friend and we caught up. Just because I missed her and because I'm lucky to have her and because there's no one to tell me not to hog the phone lines anymore and because I can and so I did.

Tonight I am going to read a book and skip pages if I want to. Just because I want to read the funny parts and laugh a little and because no one is here to tell me that I can't read a book in mixed up order and because I can and so I will.

Tonight is the first night of the rest of my life. Just because tonight is five years since my last day of chemo and because tonight my status changes to become that of a regular person who has the same chances of getting sick like someone who was never sick before and because tonight my period of remission ends.

Tonight is special just because I say it is and because I have this night that's just another great night with nothing else to worry about and because I have a night that's just full of me doing stuff because I'm healthy and capable and willing and because I can and so I do!

Five years ago they told me that chemo is over and that I can have a great life, and tonight, just a regular night, I know it's true. They said I can, and I know I do.

Just for Cuteness

2009-01-13T10:23:00.007-05:00

My family and I went back to Hackensack (the hospital where I was treated) for their Chanukah party and my son, (whom I dressed up to show off) decided he wasn't interested and took a leisurely nap on a table. My little monster. :)

Just thought I'd share now that I finally got the pics onto the computer.

EDIT: The other pictures were added after some commentor couldn't understand why I call him a monster. He's my yummy monster, devilishly cute.

(Note ketchup stains around mouth...)

(As I was running to bentch licht my son was taking care of setting the table)

(Note some more ketchup stains around mouth.)

(Nothing tastes as as good as biting into a WHOLE tomato.)

(Taking time to smell the flowers.)

(Trying out his new fluffy slippers.)

Denomination Doesn't Determine Destiny

2009-01-12T17:15:00.004-05:00

Here comes part two of my second to last post.

So I got to thinking, I don't double cover my sheitel even though I'm Chassidish, my Yemenite best friend isn't required to have a middle name like Mazal, and my Litvish friends don't all wear denim. It's weird how silly little things get stereotyped and people come to expect them.

But that's not my main point.

My thought was, after I was mistaken for being S'fardi, that as much as we stereotype other people, we also tend to exclude and try to elevate ourselves to a level above them.

There have been times where I've felt that people looked down at me for having been sick- like I chose it, or like it's something that only people who are "like me" (whatever my group may be) can get. People just assume that these bad things don't happen to them.

Whenever we hear about an accident or get another tehillim name forwarded on our email accounts, or find out about another young person who passed away, we sort of all say "nebech", forward the bad news further, say a perek or tehillim (or not) and then move on.

We kind of forget that these names are real people and that they are people like us. We tend to think that they belong to some "other" group, that live in some "other" universe, that lead "other" lives that don't pertain to us.

We're all guilty of it- I do it all the time.

Part of it is because we are desensitized. Unfortunately, there is so much bad news and we hear it so often, that it loses the dramatic impact it should have on us. But I think a bigger part of it is how disconnected we feel and allow ourselves to feel from each other.

And even those of us who aren't judging people that are different- and most of us don't- we still do think of others as being "not like us". When we read the terrible headlines we automatically say "Oh, but these things don't happen to people like me."

We hear about an Israeli soldier who was killed on the front lines the other day and the first questiona are "Was he frum? Ashkenaz?" etc. Does it matter? He was Jewish. He was one of ours.

I wrote in a post ages ago where a lady at a job interview told me quite bluntly that she was shocked that I was married because she would never let her son marry a cancer survivor. She made it sound like I was born into a coven of little monsters that were all fated to live through some horrible illness at the age of 16. I was the outcast, the different one, because things like cancer just didn't happen to people like her and her precious son.

And I sure hope they don't! I hope she and her son and her family are all well and never have to go through any tza'ar, but still- who told her that she's immune?

And when I heard about those ladies talking about me at the RCCS event, I had to wonder- do they feel better about themselves thinking that I am S'fardi? Did they go home relieved that something like cancer couldn't happen to them because it was only something that happened to "people like her"?

There is no real answer or solution to this that I can think of off the bat except for really trying to internalize the message- "Kol Yisrael Areivim Zeh Lazah." We are all responsible for each other and we are all interconnected and part of one whole. "Ke'ish Echad B'lev Echad."

I think that this is even sadder than judging other people because when we judge we single someone (or a group) out and put them down. But when we assume that certain things only happen to certain people, we are taking OURSELVES out of the whole. We are choosing to separate ourselves as individuals from the K'lall that we should all feel so privileged to belong to.

So the next time you meet or hear about someone who needs your help- see them that way. As a Someone. As a Person. As a Jew. Forget about the denomination, because in the end, we all share the same Destiny.

May our ultimate destiny be fulfilled very soon! Bimheira V'yameinu Amein!

TzipiCaton.com

2009-01-02T14:37:00.003-05:00

I know I promised to give you part two of last post, but this is more exciting so it's coming first:

First of all here's a comment posted by LadyD from RCCS that I'm going to put up as a post because I don't want you to miss it:

Tzipi's slides and interview on DVD are availabe for sale ($12)through RCCS. Please call 718-722-2002 ex:0 to request one.

Edited DVD of slides/interview/speech/Reb. Swerdlov will be available shortly for $18.

Thanks for the interests

Next....

I HAVE A WEBSITE!!!!!! It's not finished and still pretty raw, but it's up and running and working and I'm so proud of it even though (like my scrapbook) my mother did most of it...

I'm going to have to try and figure out how to connect my blog and my website so that people can see both because dont worry- I'm not giving this up just yet. The blog is for my writing and the website is more for me as an author with my bio and work and whatever.

Check it out and let me know what you think!

http://tzipicaton.com/

Determining my Denomination

2008-12-31T21:45:00.002-05:00

Funny story, with a lesson. It's long, well, not very, but long enough that I have no patience writing it all down at once, so I will divide it up into two parts. Story today, lesson next time.

Two weeks ago, at the RCCS auction in Williamsburg, my aunt's niece (no, not my cousin- her niece from the other side...) was sitting with her friends towards the back of the audience.

She and her friends are high school girls who read my book and liked it (I would say loved it but that would make me sound big headed...) and were discussing it as they were waiting for my segment of the evening to come up.

Then the lights dimmed and the huge screens lit up with the slideshow. People got quiet in order to watch and listen and so this aunt's niece was able to clearly hear two ladies talking behind her.

They were discussing who Tzipi Caton was and where she was from and who raised her and who cut her sheitels and did her dry cleaning. I may be mixing things up, but you get the gist.

One lady decided that despite certain words I pronounce with a Chassidish havarah; I was definitely not "one of theirs". The other one, despite the picture of myself and my bearded, Chassidish husband at our engagement, decided that I must be from out of town, maybe from the country of Flatbush. Then the first one agreed, saying that despite my light skin and freckles, with my dark sheitel, I must be Sephardic. The second one was quick to nod and remind her that despite it being a known pen-name, the name Caton was a dead giveaway to my Morrocan/ Yemenite/ Marrano/ Mexican/ and not to forget, Chinese heritage.

My aunt's niece, by then laughing hard enough to cause those two ladies to "shush" at her because she was disrupting their disruption of the slideshow, turned around to tell them that I was a from a moderate Chassidish home, was born, raised, live, and will probably be buried within the same two block radius in Brooklyn, was from the most Polish of backgrounds possible and that my real name was common and normal enough to rival whatever theirs may have been.

The ladies looked at her funny and she told them, "Listen, I know her, we share an aunt."

And one lady, (I think it was lady number two) blinked slowly and asked her if that was my Sephardi aunt or if she was from the Chassidish side of the family....

So that's the story. Personally, I find it funny, but my mother had a good lesson to go with it. You know I am never one to pass up a good opportunity to stand on my virtual soapbox, so I will be back with the rest soon enough!

RCCS DVDs!

2008-12-29T21:38:00.002-05:00

Just got an email from LadyD at RCCS who said that they are now selling copies of my slideshow (well, not mine, cos I didn't make it, but mine cos it's of me and my scrapbook) for $12 apiece.

It's worth it I think because the money is going to a worthy cause and because it's of ME! And it's so much better than an autograph... I mean, what's my handwriting compared to my face and voice and pictures of me in hospital gowns?

AND...They are also putting together a DVD of the slideshow PLUS my speech, PLUS Reb. Miriam Swerlov's speech PLUS Reb. Lubin's speech. That one will be sold for $18, and I'll make sure to post when it is available.

If anyone is interested in a copy, call the RCCS office at 718-722-2002.

Appreciating Miracles

2008-12-24T12:10:00.004-05:00

When do Miracles begin?

I mean, at what point during a Miracle does it happen that we all wake up and realize that it's going on right in front of our eyes?

Chanukah is a time most of us ask these kinds of questions. We can so easily see all the nissim that took place in the Chanukah story but that's because we're looking back at it, years and years later.

When did people start exclaiming, "It's a miracle!!!"? When they found the oil? When it burned for 8 days? When they defeated the Greeks? When Yehudis brought back Eliporni's head? All of the above?

There were so many miracles of Chanukah, I have to wonder if each and every one was noticed and appreciated when it took place, or if it was only seen in hindsight.

Yesterday my miracle began with my son vomiting all over our car. We're talking serious stuff. Like his throw up landing on the windshield all the way from his car seat in the back.

His new coat, his pants, his car seat, his teddy bear, everything was covered.

We were on the way to an appointment and couldn't turn back so we had to strip my kid in the parking lot of random store and wrap him in a fuzzy blanket for the rest of the time. I had to sit in the back with him in my lap, praying that he didn't throw up again and that I wouldn't either.

For the rest of the day I was busy bathing him, washing his stinky stuff, feeding him, cuddling with him, and asking him how his tummy was doing.

Later at night he refused to go to sleep, he only wanted to sit with me and cuddle while I read a book. He was talking away, telling me the kind of warbled stories and thoughts that can only exist in the head of an almost two year old.

When he fell asleep I put him in his crib, covered him up to his chin, gave him a kiss and went on to do everything else that a Mommy has to do before she goes to sleep herself.

I walked into the dining room to close the shades now that the Menorah had finished burning, and realized that it was the third night of Chanukah- exactly five years to the day that I met my husband. Seems like ages ago that I met him in pajamas with a huge mask covering my face, but it wasn't, it was only five years ago.

Five years ago it seemed like I was at my worst- like things were never going to get better. Like I was never going to have hair again, never going to finish treatments, never going to get out of the dark.

But then, at a most unexpected time, my miracle began. I met my husband. None of us knew at the time where that meeting would being us five years later, but looking back, I can definitely say that was the start of my miracle.

Or maybe it wasn't.

Maybe it started when I got sick. Because if I hadn't then I never would have become close to my teacher and my father would never have met her and never considered setting her up with the man who later became my husband.

Or maybe it started when my husband caught a ride home from Shul one Motzai Shabbos with my mother years and years ago. My mother always drives over to pick my father up from Shul and gives rides to the men who are on the way home. Once, a million years ago, my husband got a ride with my parents and it was actually my mother, not my father who thought of my husband when she met my teacher.

Who knows when that miracle began. Maybe it began before we were born.

No, not maybe. I don't doubt it. Because looking back, it's obvious that it was all planned. And it must have been planned way in advance seeing how far back and how many conditions had to be met in order for us to meet and marry each other.

So yesterday, my miracle began when my son threw up. I don't really know what the miracle was or is or will turn out to be, but I decided that I might as well appreciate it.

After all, it led to a day full of cuddles and coziness and warmth and joy and a lot of appreciation for where I am five years to the day I met my husband. Every day is a miracle- even when it's not something definite, something we can pinpoint and put our fingers on, it's still part of a much larger plan that will bring us to bigger and better things.

I'm not sure when I'll be looking back at my life and recognize a Nes years after it took place. If I can somehow find a way to appreciate every part of every day, every second that might be the building block to a bigger, more special moment in time, why not start now?

So my miracle yesterday started with throw up... Hey, anythings' possible!

May we all be zoche to experience miracles and appreciate them for what they are.

Two down and one to go!

2008-12-17T08:42:00.003-05:00

First of all- a *wave* and a *smiley* for all of the blog readers I met last night. It was so much fun to meet some of the people who spend some time each morning when the boss isn't looking to read my updates.

LadyD- What time are you posting comments? Where do you get your energy? I can barely keep my head up.

And about what I wore- it was the same outfit that I wore on the film and I was nervous that people were going to notice and say something and guess what- the first thing I heard as soon as the film ended and the spotlight shone on me standing on stage, was some ladies in the front saying, "Oh look! She's wearing the same thing like on the slide! It looks like she stepped right out of it!"

So I guess it was not a problem. :-)

One more to go, Lakewood tonight! I guess I can't get away with wearing the same thing tonight again... gotta start obsessing. :-)

It's Tonight!

2008-12-16T10:46:00.003-05:00

Well the RCCS party in Williamsburg is.

I am so excited and nervous to be there. But more excited I think. :-) You know I'm going to stress all day about what to wear so please compliment me on whatever I chose when you see me tonight. LOL

Seriously, RCCS just emailed me the slideshow production - they already showed it last night in Monsey but I didn't get to see it till about half an hour ago.

It's STUNNING. And not just because my makeup is good.

Actually, I look kind of nervous and I'm talking too fast and you can see how red my face is (It was a mix of my blushing and heat from the camera lights) but still, it's worth seeing.

I can't post it here , at least not now, but I am amazed at how well it was done and how good it looks and everything.

I know, I'm rambling, but really, Wow.

The slideshow was done by On Time productions, their website is www.ontimeprovideo.com. They were so easy to work with when they filmed me for the interview and the job they did on the final product is awesome. Check them out!

I hope to see some of you there tonight- I don't speak until very late, I'm kind of at the end of the program- they're trying to entice people to stay as late as possible to hear me, but it would be nice even if you came and left before I got up to speak- you hear enough of what I have to say here anyway. :-)

Rofeh Cholim Cancer Society

2008-12-11T09:15:00.005-05:00

I might have mentioned in an earlier post that I was booked for the Chinese Auction season this December. At the time I didn't want to give out particulars because it was not my party and I didn't feel it was right to spill everything before they even advertised.

But now it's out and if you didn't get the auction books already, I'll be speaking at the upcoming RCCS functions in Williamsburg's Rose Castle on Tuesday Dec 16, and then in Lakewood (not sure what hall) Wednesday, Dec 17.

It would be really nice to meet some of my blog readers so if you decide to come I'd love to meet you!

I'm really excited to be speaking about the book especially to benefit RCCS. They're such an amazing organization that helps so many people, myself included. They were the ones who pushed me to meet Dr. Harris whom I was treated by, and they had advice for us whenever we we needed it. They pay insurance and take care of all those small confusing details for people who are not able to do so themselves, and I think that anyone who is looking for a worthy cause to give to doesn't have to look any further.

I spoke for one of their functions last night and it was a beautiful event- so if hearing me speak is not enough to get you to come, let me bribe you with yummy food, beautiful setup and the greatest hosts/organizers an event can have. Oh! And the prizes are worth putting your tickets in for too!

Added a little later...commentor number 5 just gave another reason for all of you to be there... RCCS will IY"H be showing a stunning slideshow of my SCRAPBOOK!!! So all of you who read about it and wanted to see it- RCCS has it on film together with an interview we did so you get to hear me speak a little on the film while seeing some pages of the scrapbook my mother put together for me when I was undergoing treatment. RCCS put it together- it was their idea, and they included some pictures of me as a kid and of my son JB. I can't believe I forgot to mention that earlier!

Hope to see some of you there!

For more info, visit www.rccsauction.org

Joey Reynolds Interview

2008-11-27T20:10:00.004-05:00

Thanks to MS who introduced me to YouSendIt- I uploaded the audio file of the Joey Reynolds interview show. You can download and listen to it but it will only be available on their site for seven days or for the first 100 downloads.

Listen HERE

Happy Thanksgiving and A Gutten Erev Shabbos!

Shidduch Spiel

2008-11-22T23:00:00.006-05:00

The other day I came up with a great idea for a post- it's a shidduch spiel based on the twisted questions people ask when it comes to shidduchim.

My sister has a friend who's father is diabetic. Diabetes is kind of a normal accepted thing today and is very liveable in most cases. It means a different diet, being careful, and some insulin. Maybe I'm making it more simple than it really is, but it's out there and people cope with it every day.

My sister's friend's parents kept it a huge secret until one day her father collapsed in shul when her mother was away and no one knew what to do for him. Then the secret came out.

Originally, they kept it quiet because they were afraid that people wouldn't do shidduchim with their kids if they knew that the father had diabetes.

I think that's stupid. I mean, yeah, this stuff can be genetic- but that's all the more reason not to keep it a secret- so that people who get involved with this guy's son should know what they are facing. And even if it weren't genetic, anyone can get this at any time in their life and face it, you gotta live with it. You don't divorce someone because they have a sugar problem.

Unless we're talking about my brother who eats way too much and gets hyper and then sings Tradition on the roof of my parents house.

But anyway, this is the shidduch skit, or at least the outline of it as it came to me in the car the other night. My mother and I were talking about keeping diabetes a secret (we both agreed that diabetes is nothing compared to a sibling who can rinse his mouth with Coke and then go skiing down the basement stairs...) we agreed that in the end everyone dies anyway, so what does it matter as long as you are happy with who you are and the way you have to live your life. (We were on the way home from being menachem aval someone...can you tell?)

Here it is...

MOTHER OF GIRL: Hello, I'm calling to find out some information about a boy you might know. I understand he's your cousin's mechutan's nephew. Fishel Weiss?

INFORMER: Sure, I practically raised the boy. He's the redhead?

MOTHER OF GIRL: No, I heard he's dark.

INFORMER: Oh, sure I knew that. What would you like to know?

MOTHER OF GIRL: Well I was calling to ask, would you by any chance know if there is any history of illness in his family?

INFORMER: His mother's side or his father's?

MOTHER OF GIRL: Both, I guess.

INFORMER: Let's see. Well on his mother's side I know his aunt Betty had Breast cancer and that his Uncle Henry had Hodgkin's and that his Grandpop had an ingrown toenail.

MOTHER OF GIRL: Ingrown toenail?

INFORMER: Oh yes, it was a doozy too. And then on his father's side, there was Grandma Lucy who had Lymphoma and Great Uncle Melvin with Melanoma, and then the cousin with the tumor.

MOTHER OF GIRL: What kind of tumor?

INFORMER: Oh, I don't remember exactly, it was benign anyway, but his cousin made such a fuss that it didn't matter. The whole world plus a few neighbors knew every little detail.

MOTHER OF GIRL: Every little detail? Like what? Because this is very important for me to know of my daughter might one day marry into the family.

INFORMER: Oh, I don't remember all the details, but don't worry, your daughter would fit in so well there! Can she cook for a diabetic?

MOTHER OF GIRL: What does that mean? Why would she need to do that?

INFORMER: Well you see Fishel's mother is diabetic and since his father is suffering from his eighth nervous breakdown she will need someone to look after her once he is put into an institution for good. Someone who knows how to count carbs and sugar and give insulin shots.

MOTHER OF GIRL: Doesn't Fishel have other siblings?

INFORMER: Of course he does! But you know how it is...

MOTHER OF GIRL: No, please, tell me how it is!

INFORMER: His older brother has a heart problem, he has high cholesterol and his blood pressure is through the roof. His wife and his mother are always at each others throats- at least they were ten years ago when they were still talking, and I know that if his mother came to live with him and he had to hear those two fighting, he would for sure drop dead of a heart attack. The first two didn't kill him but the doctor said the third would definitely work where the others had failed.

MOTHER OF GIRL: Heart Attack?

INFORMER: Sure, and then his next sister has thirteen kids, and she's not a coper at all. She's the one you see in the grocery with the screaming kid and the mismatched shoes. But it's really such a nice family and you shouldn't think twice about marrying your daughter in.

MOTHER OF GIRL: But with such family history!

INFORMER: Lady! You mean to tell me you have no family history at all?

MOTHER OF GIRL: (stiffly) My parents are Holocaust survivors and my husband and I are only children. Our parents may they live and be well, are exceptional and my husband and I have taken care to only set a good example and to be the Model Jewish family. We have no history except for that which we created on our own. There is no history before our parents as their entire families have been wiped out. We are our own history and we have no secrets to hide.

INFORMER: Don't worry! The Weiss' have no secrets either! How do you think I know all this stuff??

MOTHER OF GIRL: I'm not sure all this talk of illness in the family is making me feel any better about this shidduch. I don't want my daughter exposed to this, and IY"H one day when she will have children of her own, I dread to think of these awful genes running through their veins.

INFORMER: Ach! Don't let that bother you at all! Genes aren't the things you should worry about. How are his middos?

MOTHER OF GIRL: I don't know, can you tell me anything?

INFORMER: Not off the bat. But you know what they say about redheads...

MOTHER OF GIRL: I thought he was dark?

INFORMER: Right. But you know what they say...

MOTHER OF GIRL: Yes, of course.

INFORMER: But really, don't worry about all the genetic stuff. It won't come through your daughter's kids anyway.

MOTHER OF GIRL: How can you be so sure?

INFORMER: First of all, have you studied genetics? It's like 10% chance he won't be able to have children to begin with.

MOTHER OF GIRL: What?!

INFORMER: Everyone knows that. Nobody has more than a 90% chance of having kids at all- so add him with your daughter's 10% and there's a 20% chance they'll never have kids to pass on those genes to anyway. Then again, if you add his 90% and her 90% there's like a 180% that they will have lots of kids with ingrown toenails and crooked teeth.

MOTHER OF GIRL: Crooked teeth? I didn't know it ran in his family!

INFORMER: Oh, it doesn't! But don't think the whole world forgot what your daughter looked like before she had braces...

MOTHER OF GIRL: !#)@#U%$#@%

INFORMER: But anyway, really, rest assured, there is nothing to worry about from either side of the Weiss family. I know for a fact that Fishel is adopted.

MOTHER OF GIRL: WHAT?!?! ADOPTED? How do you know?

INFORMER: Well it's not every day you see a Schvartze yingel in the Weiss mishpacha...

B-I-N-G-O Spells What?

2008-11-10T21:37:00.002-05:00

Overheard:

My husband singing to my son as he tried to feed him a few more spoons of Orzo at supper.

"B-I-N-G-O...B-I-N-G-O...B-I-N-G-O... and Popeye was his name-o!"

I know this isn't really related to the blog, but I couldn't resist running to my computer and getting it down for posterity.

So Now I Owe You?

2008-11-04T23:16:00.004-05:00

I am a little confused today. And yesterday. And the day before too.

You see, Chinese Auction season is coming up in a few weeks and it seems like Tzipi Caton is the hot speaker to bag for the various organizations this year.

Let me preface by saying that I am already B"H booked and taken for the season with the promise of not speaking for anyone else before I speak for the specific organization that got to me first.

I have no objections and understand them completely. No one wants to be stuck with me if I already gave the same speech at ten other fundraisers in the last month. They want me fresh and new and exciting.

But it seems like I was booked early and since the word isn't out yet, I'm still getting calls from different chessed organizations in the community.

*Disclaimer* What you are about to read is exaggerated based on my mood and on how tired I am. Just take with a pinch of happiness and some salt. Which is not to say this didn't happen, just that people aren't as obnoxious as I make them sound on my blog. Well except maybe me...

CALLER: Hi, Tzipi?

ME: (Hesitant) Hi...

CALLER: How are you???? It's Mrs. A, (or B, or C, whatever)

ME: Do I know you?

CALLER: Of course! Don't you remember me? I taught your little sister six years ago. I met you once in the grocery. I was wearing the pantyhose with the run and the sideways turban.

ME: I guess it rings a bell.

CALLER: Well I MUST talk to you about your book.

ME: (wondering how these people manage to get hold of my unlisted number) Okay...

CALLER: Well first of all I loooooovvvved it!

ME: Thank you. (Talking with the phone jammed between my ear and shoulder while struggling to get my kid into the bath.)

CALLER: And I must ask you, were you in any way helped by or affiliated with (insert name of organization she fundraises for here)?

ME: No.

CALLER: Are you sure?

ME: Yes.

CALLER: Because sometimes we help people but they don't even know. We do things behind the scenes through friends and family and even other organizations so the patient doesn't necessarily know we were involved.

ME: If that were the case for me then I would definitely not know so I couldn't give you a "yes" either way.

CALLER: Oh. Because you see, we really would like for you to help us and we were hoping that maybe if you felt an appreciation to our organization for everything that we did for you maybe you would want to....*voice trails off as if waiting for me to offer my services*

ME: (sits quietly, not about to offer anything I am not ready to do.)

CALLER: (after long pause) Well anyway. We heard you speak in public.

ME: Yes, I do.

CALLER: Well we were wondering if you would speak at our upcoming Chinese Auction (or other event planned)

ME: I am already booked with so-and-so but any time after then, as long as you meet my fee I will be more than happy to speak.

CALLER: You wouldn't do it for free?

ME: No.

CALLER: But we are a chessed organization!

ME: So is everyone else who calls me.

CALLER: But it would be such a zechus on your part and you'd be giving so much chizuk to others.

ME: If I wanted zechusim I could be out every night for the rest of my life and three lifetimes plus, but I just can't. I do my chessed in other ways, for me this is parnossoh. And I can give chizuk when I get paid too. I promise.

CALLER: Oh. I just thought that since we did so much for you...

ME: I'm very grateful. But I didn't know that you put a price on the volunteer work you did for me five years ago. Believe me, I am grateful, but if I were to act on my gratefulness in the way that you and every other organization wishes me to, I would very quickly start resenting everything you ever did for me.

CALLER: I don't understand.

ME: Skip it. It's not important.

CALLER: So you'll do it?

ME: If you meet my price.

CALLER: Okay, we'll get back to that. Another thing. I was wondering if maybe you and your husband would donate a prize to our auction.

ME: What?

CALLER: Well it would give people such chizuk to see that a prize was donated by the author of Miracle Ride.

ME: Even if I would donate something it would be under my husband's name- people wouldn't even know we had anything to do with the book- I don't see how that would give anyone chizuk.

CALLER: Aha. I see what you are saying. Would you consider donating something now anyway?

ME: What do you have in mind?

CALLER: Maybe a trip to Eretz Yisroel?

ME: Do you normally ask young couples at our stage in life to donate a trip costing a couple of thousand dollars?

CALLER: Why? Are you not up to it financially? What does your husband do for a living?

ME: I wasn't aware that I had to balance my checkbook with you.

CALLER: Not at all! I just thought that you having been in a matzav to benefit from our help would want to give...

ME: Funny, I would have thought that someone who has once been a young couple themselves would understand where the average kid my age stands financially and would know better than to ask.

CALLER: I just thought that you would want to give.

ME: And I thought you'd understand that I can't just give even if I want to.

CALLER: Will you talk it over with your husband?

ME: (defeated) I will.

CALLER: Will you call me back?

ME: (Wondering how soon I'm allowed to call back with a "no") IY"H.

CALLER: If you don't call me may I call you back?

ME: Of course.

CALLER: Because I wasn't sure if I should, I mean your number is unlisted and I assume that means that you don't want to be bothered.

ME: That's okay. It's never a bother.

CALLER: Oh good! So I will be in touch!

I love all these organizations, and I love Chinese Auction season- don't get me wrong, but I will start appreciating the donors and entertainers at these functions ten times more now that I know what they put up with to get there....

For you Guys in Washington DC, VA and MD!

2008-10-31T14:27:00.002-04:00

Just got a request to do an interview with the Awake, Alive, and Jewish radio station this Sunday at around 10:30 am. If you're familiar with the station- tune on in! They sound a lot more excited to have me (and better prepared) than Joey Reynolds.

They also have archives that I'll be able to post here after- I don't think you can hear the show online, but they said they post the archives on their site later and I'll link it here.

Gut Shabbos!

Miracle Sheitel!

2008-10-30T14:47:00.004-04:00

This post is my response to the comment of an Anonymous poster who liked the sheitel I was wearing in my pictures below.

LOL thanks anonymous and Mazal Tov! (LOL Are you who I think you are CRF? Then you already know this sheitel! This is the one I wore when I got to know you!)

Let me tell you about my wig and why I am laughing.

This wig is as of this week celebrating its 5th anniversary on my head. I bought it when I first got sick (this is the ACTUAL wig I mentioned in my book) and I wore it day in day out for about four years before getting another weekday sheitel.

Last year I didnt wear it so much because the ends were looking blah, so right around Rosh Hashana time I decided to buy a new wig and throw this one out.

Then I figured that before I bought a new wig and tried a short hairstyle (new for me) on it, I should rather cut up this old one that I wanted to throw out anyway, and test the style on this first.

I didnt feel like spending a lot on a cut for a wig that was probably garbage, so I had a friend who enjoys cutting wigs chop it up for me just for fun.

It came out so awesome and looks so fresh and new, that the money I saved for the new sheitel will just wait another few years!

I still can't believe it when people compliment the wig (even though I know it's a good one) because I was all set and ready to trash it. I wash and blow dry this wig myself, I even dyed it a couple of times in my kitchen sink. I was seriously not afraid of ruining it because I was ready for a new one. Now I wear this one every day and want to cut up my other ones that are looking a little blah.

This is a Global Wig - it costs in the same range as most others out there that the kallahs are getting. It's extremely flat and natural looking (I have two of them- one for Shabbos) and super easy to take care of.

I don't know many people who have Globals, just because most kallahs end up getting what all their friends are getting (ie: Shevy's and Kiki's) but I have been very happy with both of my Globals and I keep getting compliments on them even though one is five and the other is four years old.

I hope Global appreciates the free advertising here...

Pics from the Joey Reynolds Show

2008-10-29T23:26:00.004-04:00

Still can't get the audio file onto the blog, bear with me. It wasn't anything amazing, but I was glad to do it and see what it's like to be in a real live studio and for the experience. And I give in, there are pics of my face :-) I'm the one in the short sheitel. My sister wanted to tag along and see what it was all about- she's the one with me in most pics. In the picture where I'm not facing the camera you can see Joey Reynolds on the right, half hidden behind his mike.

Hear me! Hear me!

2008-10-27T16:09:00.002-04:00

The big smash opening for my book is over, but I just landed a spot on the Joey Reynolds show tomorrow night (Or early Wednesday morning as it's after midnight...).

Joey will be hosting a panel about cancer. From what I heard, this show is supposed to be about the positive effects of humor on illness. I have yet to find out who else will be featured (I have yet to find out pretty much everything as they just notified me this morning that I will be coming in to the studio tomorrow night)but it sounds fun.

I mean, if fun for you is staying up to do a show in the wee hours of the morning that's too late for me to listen to on any regular night...

But if you tune in at 1am to 710 am I'll be there schmoozing...

Hope you get to hear me!

http://www.wor710.com/pages/46370.php
http://joeyreynoldsradio.com/Home_Page.html

The Glad Game

2008-10-26T12:13:00.003-04:00

I think I discovered the secret to being happy. I haven't worked out all the kinks yet, but really, I think I'm on the way there.

The only stupid part is that PollyAnna figured it out before me. She had the Glad game all set and going before I was even born.

I realized over time that as long as I keep looking for things to be thankful for, I will always feel lucky and happy and special.

When I was in high school my friend Miri and I would play the Kvetch Game. We would take turns kvetching to each other about our lives and the only rule was that we couldn't repeat any of the kvetches.

We used to laugh at how long we were able to keep going, like it was cool how much we had to complain about.

Looking back I think of the stuff we used to kvetch about and I laugh and cringe at the same time. This was before the days that I had cancer and before anything really momumental ever happened to any of us. We had such easy lives compared to so many other people we know and even knew then, but still, we let ourselves wallow in our miseries by turning it into a game.

No wonder we were such attitude ridden kids.

But when I got sick a lot changed.

One of the big things that changed for me was the kvetch game. Miri wouldn't play it with me anymore because I would always win. So I offered to change it, but still she wouldn't play.

Instead, I developed a small ritual. Every night, no matter what time I pulled myself into bed, I said Shema and played the Glad Game. I listed three things I was grateful for. I sorted out my day in my mind, thought about tomorrow, and thanked Hashem for at least three things.

They could have been anything. I could have been thanking for getting the small needle instead of the big one or for getting a blood transfusion or for even making me go down another skirt size.

It didn't matter, as long as I went to sleep feeling thankful for something.

Today people ask me all the time what was the secret to my being so upbeat when things seemed so bad. It's hard to give a real answer because I'm not a special person or anything who can see Hashem's plan in all of this and know that no matter what it all turns out for the best.

For me it was just being thankful. I guess that as long as I went to sleep each night knowing that I had something going for me, how could I wake up really miserablt and upset in the morning?

To give credit where credit is due, I didn't even learn this from PollyAnna. I got this from my 6th grade teacher.

It was the first day of school and she told us all to open our Chumashim to whatever page and hers happened to fall open to the exact page as soon as she turned the cover.

She smiled and said out loud "Thank you Hashem!" and we, being 6th graders, of course, laughed.

She looked at us all in sincerity and asked why we were laughing. Hashem just did her a favor- he spared her from turning pages and making her look flustered in front of us on the first day of class.

Most of us laughed and thought she was a little weird, but for some reason that moment popped into my mind sometime during my illness. I started figuring that she was right. We complain to G-d all the time, but when do we ever tell Him that we are happy? Doesn't he deserve to hear that too?

So later on, when I started this little ritual all to myself late at night, half asleep, it made perfect sense to me, even if I wouldn't neccessarily say it out loud like my teacher did.

And I really think that this is the true way of finding happiness. Being thankful for everything. No one says we can't kvetch too, but I think we have to remember to give thanks along with the list of complaints.

Life is what we make it out to be. We get to choose the way we want to see the world. The unfortunate part is that most people just expect the world to see them a certain way, when really they should be the ones adjusting the tint on their glasses.

The world aint gonna change for you if you won't even change for yourself.

So let's make a change.

I dare everyone who reads this to be happy for three things every night. I DARE you.

To start you off, this is what I was thankful for last night:
1. My KA"H cutie son who was sleeping in the next room.
2. My husband who was snoring in the next bed.
3. The extra chocolate cake in the fridge that I couldn't wait to eat for breakfast.

Your turn!

The fun of Being Me!

2008-10-06T22:39:00.002-04:00

Sorry for neglecting the blog recently, but you know how it is... Writer's block I guess....

Well, here's a long overdue post:

I was out with my son the other day and I called him JB. This lady stopped and looked over at me and asked me what I just called my son. I told her I called him JB cos those were his initials.

She asked if my last name was Caton and I looked all confused and told her it wasn't.

She looked so disappointed and walked away.

I guess she didn't know I wrote under a pen name LOL.

That's my fun anecdote.

More later!

G'mar Chasima Tova everyone!

In My Shoes

2008-09-02T23:33:00.001-04:00

Black with a buckle, a dull leather shine
Comfortable tread, these shoes that are mine
Soles worn at the heels, rubbed out at the toes
With me so long, wherever I go

They click as I walk, running, they slide
In bad moods they carry me in good ones they glide
Black with a buckle, pair that I choose
Wear them a while, do a mile in my shoes.

They know my imprint, recognize my shape
Arch lends support on those days not so great
Instep just right, room still to grow
Step after step, with me they go.

Walking the pebbles, the dirt, and the path
Molding to me faithfully, whatever I ask
I shine and polish to keep them like new,
For only they know what it is I go through.

Do you know how it feels, size six and a half?
To be in my shoes when I cry and I laugh?
Each scuff on the toe, the story of all
Every time I trip, each time that I fall

The mileage on this pair has taken me far
Only your shoes can take you where you are.
But if you really want to know me, take a little time
Take off your worn loafers, and walk a mile in mine.

Reflections, a Letter/Song

2008-08-27T11:19:00.002-04:00

REFLECTIONS

Dear World,

I'm just a reflection of what you want to see.
I'm a mirror- I show you an image but not the real me.
Your facial expressions, I copy your actions,
Whatever you do, I am the reaction.

Those labels you give me you think you're perceptive,
But let me tell you, I can be deceptive.
Before you define me as something not quite norm,
Believe that I reflect what you exude on my form.

CHORUS:

I can appear changed in someone else’s eyes,
And what different people see may come as a surprise.
You want to see anger, confusion, and despair?
I keep in mind it’s not me, and I try not to care.

You ask why I keep you guessing and why I don’t just tell
But like a mirror I’m a myth that you need to dispel.
You say mirrors are fickle, they can distort and lie
But mirrors don’t talk, and neither do I

You can keep staring, define me with your gaze.
But you won't get to know me till you travel my maze,
Most people are content to judge but not try,
They are fine with my image staring them in the eye.

How can you be sure when you don't really know?
My personality is within me, outside it won't show.
So when you walked away with whatever you knew,
Know now it's not me, but a reflection of you.

CHORUS:

I can appear changed in someone else’s eyes,
And what different people see may come as a surprise.
You want to see anger, confusion, and despair?
I keep in mind it’s not me, and I try not to care.

You ask why I keep you guessing and why I don’t just tell
But like a mirror I’m a myth that you need to dispel.
You say mirrors are fickle, they can distort and lie
But mirrors don’t talk, and neither do I

But if you had tried to come with an open heart,
I should tell you that I'd also echo that part,
I am a mirror; I reflect what you do,
Extend your friendship and I'll give you mine too.

Stop talking and scheming, for once just don't plan,
Forget my image and get to know who I am.
But who ever looks beyond imperfection?
Until someone does I remain,
Your Reflection.

CHORUS:

I can appear changed in someone else’s eyes,
And what different people see may come as a surprise.
You want to see anger, confusion, and despair?
I keep in mind it’s not me, and I try not to care.

You ask why I keep you guessing and why I don’t just tell
But like a mirror I’m a myth that you need to dispel.
You say mirrors are fickle they play with your mind,
Mirrors don’t talk, but I could try.

Moved in! And Wondering...

2008-08-26T15:27:00.003-04:00

You know what I find weird?

Well, lots of things.

But you know what struck me over the last couple of weeks as being strange?

How is it that some people face tremendous challenges with the powerful faith and strength that leave us all speechless, but then can break down when the hairdryer goes bust?

Over the last few months all I've been hearing is feedback about the book. I've heard it all- the good, the bad, the ugly. There are the people who think it's too sad, some that think it's too upbeat, and some that think it's just right.

But what I think everyone agrees with is that the route I took when I was ill was the best one for me. Maybe not for anyone else, but for me, yes.

And another thing most people like to embarrass me with is the part about me being soooo strong and blah di blah and how I had such amazing faith and blah more blah. I say blah, not because it's not nice to hear this, but because there is nothing to answer and because I know from where I get my strength and bitachon. I had lots of people helping me along the way and it was mostly them, not me, getting me through everything.

But ANYWAY. The point is, that whatever the case may be, I've been through the runaround. And not to brag or anything, but I would like to think I came out reasonably stable and okay from everything I have been through.

So what I couldn't wrap my head around last week was why after everything so far, what caused me to really break down in tears, and I mean really wracking, sobbing, cry your heart out tears, was when the locksmith I was using installed a broken buzzer into my new home and then wanted to charge me $200 to have it replaced- five days after he installed it when it never worked to begin with. When I insisted that it had never worked he got all huffy, called me a liar, took his tools and drove away without even saying good-bye or working it out.

And so I sat down on the stairs and bawled. So much so that my son came over to give me a kiss and his pacifier.

Of course, this is kind of a stupid embarrassing story to put on a blog, but I wonder- it seems so weird to me. I've seen this happen to other people and always thought it strange but now it happened to me too.

What makes us weird weird people tick? I wonder.

Anywho! I'm back!!! Any readers still around?

Not in Hibernation...

2008-08-10T18:44:00.002-04:00

To answer a commenter's question, I am not in hibernation, don't worry.

I am though in the middle of moving and getting settled into a new place where the internet isn't working yet (neither is the hot water or stove...) but should be up and running within the week.

So bear with me till then!

Hope everyone is fasting well, I'm already counting down until I can have a J&J cappucino...

Amy's Army

2008-08-04T11:30:00.004-04:00

I recieved an email asking for help in finding a stem cell transplant for a young girl named Amy. This is not one of those dumb pranks that you get in your emails where they say that Google will donate 5 cents for every person that reads this sob story. Those, by the way, are all fake. Google and Yahoo and Aol and whatever can NOT track who you are sending your emails to and they are not interested. Before you pass on those dumb annoying inbox-cluttering emails, please verify them. You can just go onto Google and search the name of the "sick girl" or the "doctor" and a bunch of sites will come up and tell you that this stuff is all nonesense.

Back to Amy. Amy Katz was diagnosed with Chronic Myelogenous Leukemia (CML) in 2003. She volunteered to participate in a worldwide study for Gleevac in order to “help other kids..” But, while the drug allows her to lead a somewhat normal life, the only known cure for CML is a stem cell transplant. Although Amy’s whole family has been tested, none of them are a match (although ironically, her two sisters are perfect matches for each other.)

Amy’s Army was founded by friends and family soon after learning about Amy’s diagnosis. They held their first marrow drive in 2004 and had a turnout of over 1,620 people! The second drive drew 500 people in the midst of a Pittsburgh snowstorm! Although the many marrow drives that have been hosted by Amy’s Army have found 22 other donor matches for other patients, none has yet been found for Amy.

The most likely matches for Amy are Jews of Eastern European descent. The Pittsburgh Jewish community has been enthusiastic in their support of the cause, but we are now trying to expand by encouraging national Jewish organizations to host donor drives. Amy’s Army has already hosted donor drives in 12 states and is hoping to increase this number.

Amy’s Army has received a lot of local press coverage. If you are interested in reading the articles you can find them on the website at: http://www.amysarmy.org/press.htm.

For more information you can also visit: www.amysarmy.org.

If people are unable to attend a specific Amy’s Army donor drive, they are still encouraged to register and provide the donor bank with Amy’s CBB tracking number, #Z0020553.

This is as much as I can really write here because most of what anyone needs to know is on her website. If people reading this could maybe forward her website to others, maybe someone who is interested in donating will get to read it and we can make something happen for a girl who needs it.

Tizku L'mitzvos!

Whirpools and Maytags and Kids! Oh My!

2008-07-29T10:30:00.005-04:00

I recently found my son and great nephew hanging out together in my sister-in-law's dryer. The laundry had just been taken out and since her hands were full, my sister in law left to put the laundry basket down before coming back to close the dryer door. Of course, by that time, her grandson and my tzaddik were already making themselves at home inside.

After the initial freak out stage, we grabbed our cameras and saved the moment for posterity. It was all very cute.

And then I went to buy a dryer for myself. I wanted a similar one to what my sister in law has and went into the appliance store to check out the features and decide between similar models.

The sales rep there showed us around and when he overheard me fielding a call from my sister (babysitting my munchkin) he said that this specific dryer that we were looking at was great for kids.

Now I don't know about you, but all that comes to mind when I hear "dryer" in the same sentence as "kids" is "IF YOU DON'T GET OUT OF MY DRYER RIGHT THIS SECOND I WILL DO A LOAD WITH YOU IN IT!!!!"

Remember the days of hide and seek?

Well I couldn't imagine that this is what the rep meant, and so I asked.

"Oh," he said happily, "this is the best model for playing hide and go seek in!"

I think I did a double take.

"You see, this was specially built to withstand up to 50lbs of a child's weight so that if yours chose to hide in there it would not break. It even has an easy close from the inside and an air vent so that he can breathe..."

My husband did the double take then.

"Oh yes, and here is a sensor that can feel if there is a child or a pet in the machine and it won't let you do a load if it isn't all right. It will make you check first and open the door before letting you dry the clothes."

Yippee do dah. So because parents were lazy and tired of screaming their kids out of the laundry room all the time, the companies just caved and adapted for hide and go seek.

Not only do they sell this as a safety feature- the fact that it's kid friendly is a selling point for these machines! Wow. Times have changed.

I can't help but get annoyed at the companies- yeah, I know its a safety issue and all and I'm going to buy the machine anyway and take pictures of my son in it whenever he climbs in, but why does our society bend so much to give in to laziness and childish antics?

I see it everywhere these days. I can't complain because I am a part of it all, but I can't help thinking that it's ruining us in a way. When I was growing up there was no such thing as every single kid haveing all the same toys as everyone else in the class and the same $100 backpack and the mandatory iPod for the bas mitzvah present.
What are we subconsciously teaching our next generation? That they deserve it all? That we have to cater to their inability to think for themselves and play by their own rules? We have to make our dryers child proof and give them all permission to play in them?

I know this is kind of taking it out of context, but after spending a few years in the classroom and watching my siblings grow up and thinking about how I'm going to raise my kids and buying new dryers that are rasing my kids for me... It just gets me thinking...

Hashem Set that up Years Ago!

2008-07-24T14:52:00.002-04:00

In a United States convention of neurologists from all over the world, one of the main topics was the phenomenon of people fainting upon getting up from bed.

One of the speakers was Professor Linda McMaron of Great Britain and she gave a lengthy speech regarding her study on this issue. She elaborated that after many years of study and investigation on this subject, she came to the conclusion that the fainting is caused by the sharp transfer between laying down and standing up.

Professor McMaron said that it takes 12 seconds for the blood to flow from the feet to the brain. But when a person quickly stands up upon waking up, the blood gets 'thrown' to the brain too quickly and the result is fainting. She suggested that each person, even one that does not have a tendency to faint, upon waking up should sit on the bed, and count slowly till 12 to avoid dizziness, weakness, and/or fainting.

Her speech was rewarded with loud applause and enthusiastic feedbacks.

Another Professor, a Jewish religious man, asked permission to speak.

He said: "By us, the Jews, there is an old tradition, thousands of years old, to say a prayer of thanks to the Creator of the World for meriting us to wake up healthy and whole. The prayer is said immediately upon waking up, while one is still on the bed and sitting down. There are 12 words in this prayer and if one regulates himself to say it slowly with concentration, it takes exactly 12 seconds to says it... 12 words in 12 seconds.

He said the prayer slowly in Hebrew:
Mode Ani Lefanecha Melech Chai VeKayam, Shehechezarta Bi Nishmati Bechemla Raba Emunatecha
“I thank Thee, O living and eternal King, because Thou hast graciously restored my soul to me; great is Thy faithfulness.”

The auditorium burst into a standing applause that roared throughout the auditorium. This time, it was for the Creator of the World.

Now Eye Know

2008-07-20T11:55:00.004-04:00

On the first day of school in third grade two of my best friends came in wearing glasses. I decided then that I needed glasses too. Of course, even with excessive squinting and horribly misreading signs, my mother wasn't convinced that I needed a prescription.

So I began to read in the dark, stopped eating carrots, and did whatever I could to ruin my eyesight enough to need glasses.

I finally got them the day before school started in sixth grade.

I have hated them ever since.

Almost as soon as I got my first pair of frames they were out of style. Because my insurance didn't cover them, I couldn't get new ones until they broke in the summer before eighth grade. When I got new ones I decided they were dead ugly and when I lost them a month later my mother thought it was done on purpose. I walked around half blind for almost a year until my mother was finally convinced that I really didn't know where my glasses were.

My memories of eighth grade all have a blurry quality... as if I was walking through that year not really seeing what was going on around me...

Of course I found those ugly glasses (Pesach cleaning) the week before my appointment with the eye doctor and when I showed them to my mother she finally agreed that they were as ugly as I insisted they were.

And then I finally got contact lenses!!! For the next six years no one even knew I had ugly glasses because they never saw me in them.

And then I had chemo and I had to stop wearing my lenses because my eyes were sensitive to them. I started a search to find special lenses that my eyes could deal with and finally ended up wearing Acuvue2 like everyone else in the world.

And then I had my baby and after many many many sleepless nights my eyes just wouldn't cooperate with my percious contacts on a day to day basis. And so I went out and bought a new pair of cool frames.

Of course, walking into class this past September, I found that I was wearing the same pair of cool frames as half of my students.

Luckily, JB began sleeping through the night right about then and it was back to my lenses most of the time.

But then I noticed I had a problem seeing certain things. I saw everything around me just fine but for some reason couldn't read street signs until they were right above me. I missed way too many turns on Ocean Parkway before I realized I should check it out.

Mind you, I was determined to check this out almost a year ago, but just got around to it now...

My oncologist told me to check out the possibility of cataracts because it was a side effect of one of the chemos. My father had just finished cataract surgery that week even though he was still too young to have them, and I decided right then that I must also have cataracts.

My eye doctor checked my eyes and found nothing wrong with me and so I made an appointment with an Opthamologist. I was getting all excited thinking about how I was going to have cataract surgery and then never need to wear glasses again.

I reminisced about the times I read with a flashlight under the covers and squinted on purpose and promised that if my kids ever asked for glasses I'd give them a pair of empty frames like my grandmother wears just to look good so that they shouldn't have to ruin their eyesight for it. That way when they decide they're as sick of glasses as I am they can forget about them and never have to live with the curse of a real prescription.

I was getting all emotional about getting my vision back and starting over when I booked my appointment.

I had my appointment last week. The doctor looked at my eyes and said that even though I had a white cloudy spot in one of them it meant nothing much and he wasn't going to touch it now.

When I asked him what I could do to correct whatever was wrong with my vision he laughed and said I should find a new doctor because my other one didn't know what he was talking about. Within five minutes he had me written up for a newer higher prescription and I walked home from his office wearing those huge offensive ugly sunglasses feeling like an idiot.

Hypochondriac that I am, and all I need is yet another new pair of glasses.

So I'm off to fix my prescription (which did I mention hasn't been updated in 5 years?) and I hope this will be the last episode in the saga of my eye wear until I'm ready to do Lasik...

Practice Makes Progress

2008-07-13T19:34:00.002-04:00

Not the type of thing that's really related to the blog, but the newest poem off my press and couldn't wait to share!

My pencil pressed hard on that paper with lines,
As I practiced my script in a writing so fine.
My teacher gave stars to the work that was best,
“Practice makes perfect” she said to the rest.

My little tongue poked out as I rounded a letter.
Knowing this time it was sure to be better.
I waited for approval as teacher checked my swirls,
And finally got a sticker like the other girls.

But even with the shiny star I got at the end,
I knew my script couldn’t compare to that of my friend.
I really tried my best and I knew that I did good,
But others always seemed to do better than I could.

All through the years perfection was the dream
And I practiced all the time so I could see what it would mean
But somehow even when I pulled out all the stops,
Perfection was out of reach- somewhere at the top.

It got me down as I grew to understand
That I was never going to attain the goal I had at hand.
Perfection was unreachable, it got me really blue.
“Practice makes perfect” just didn’t ring true.

And then one day it hit me, it was sparkling clear,
Perfection wasn’t the reason that I was put down here.
If Hashem wanted perfect he wouldn’t have created me,
He just wanted the best- the best that I could be.

It didn’t stop my practicing; I just set different heights,
And I didn’t want perfection to ever cloud my sight.
Now my dreams of perfect; I dismissed ‘em,
“Practice make progress” was what I put into my system

No one here is perfect, it’s an unattainable score
But we can progress in life and grow a little more.
Life is all about changing, learning, and growing,
And those that think “perfect” are not all- knowing.

I think we can never stop learning and practicing to fly,
Because we are only here as long as we try.
We exist to work on and better our souls,
Progress, not perfect is the name of our goal.

Today when I see my kids keeping up with demands,
I take their little chins and lift them in my hands.
And tell them “Practice makes progress” that’s all you need to know,
Hashem is very happy just to see you grow!

Fair's Fair

2008-07-09T22:06:00.002-04:00

This poem was sent to me by a 12 year old girl who goes by the name TaliHotTamale. I thought it was beautiful and wanted to share it with everyone. The nicest part about having this blog and the book is getting feedback and learning how awesome other people can be.

Teacher said that life ain't fair,
Mommy said so too.
But what I’d really like to know, what I wonder is if it’s really true.
If you get a cookie instead of me, do I have right to cry and say,
Life ain't fair?
If I fall down out of carelessness do I have right to scream and say,
Life ain't fair?
If you are funnier, smarter, or nicer than me do I have right to whine and say,
Life ain't fair?
If I get sick one day instead of you does that give me the right to groan that,
Life ain't fair?
For the King of all Kings sits on His throne on judgment day and looks down in His book
And if He thinks you should be He’ll let you off the hook.
But if that’s not the case and we don’t deserve to swim away,
Do we have the right to go and cry and then complain?
For our Father in Heaven only does what’s best, and never Judges unfairly while he throws at us those tests.
So are Mommy, teacher, and the rest right to say that life ain't fair?
I don’t think so.
In my eyes there couldn't be anything fairer.

To Teachers

2008-07-08T10:05:00.001-04:00

This song was sent to me by Freeda Goldman. She wrote it for a teacher who helped her through a hard time.

(to:shema [shwekey])

I leave the classroom, "thanks goodbye",
see the worry in your eyes
you can't approach,
is there what to say..
with a heart locked up in a wall of stone
to cover up the stress at home
here I sit in your class each day..

In the shadows, I sit in back
Life's confusing
So much looks black
Yet some people linger
They show me a kind face
Help me out, wrap me in an embrace....

(chorus) you watch,
don't know what to do...
know that I also
am confused too
I long to learn, to participate,
just know that it's not your class I hate
Teacher it's all right,
It's not about you

I wait for these times to pass
So I can reapply myself to the tasks
Of a normal student with a normal home...
I travel far in my mind
To find a place where all is kind
Perhaps there I won't feel so alone

My heart will warm,
And melt the cold
"all is well" I'll finally be told
"Hashem above" I cry out
"Please help me get through
Only You can help me, only You"

(chorus) you watch,
don't know what to do...
know that I also
am confused too
I long to learn, to participate,
just know that it's not your class I hate
Teacher, it's all right,
It's not about you

So from afar, you watch me
This is the way, it has to be
but don't worry,
I know you're there
It means a lot for me to know
You care about me and so
Please overlook my behavior and blank stares

My heart will warm,
And melt the cold
"all is well" I'll finally be told
Teacher, please understand,
I feel torn in two
I can't but want, to listen to you....

(chorus)you watch,
don't know what to do...
know that I also
am confused too
I long to learn, to participate,
just know that it's not your class I hate
Teacher it's all right,
It's not about you

First Aid for Men

2008-07-03T14:43:00.002-04:00

Dedicated to my dear husband who makes sure I take my vitamins but will never swallow a Tylenol.

When it comes to boo-boos, every man thinks he’s real tough,
“First Aid? Pshaw! That’s just baby stuff!”
A man may be feeling deathly sick and ill,
But you’ll never see a “real man” taking any pills!

Hallmark cards are silly; men don’t read ‘em,
And doctors?Ha! Who needs them?
‘Cos every man is just like you,
Thinks he’s Bob the Builder too!

You’d think men run on batteries the way they keep on going,
And pain? They’ll do everything to keep us from knowing!
And it’s only when they feel like being really nice,
That they’ll “do you a favor” and use some ice.

See, when they are hurt they don’t need no help.
They can find their own way to the “fix it” shelf.
They don’t see why stitches should do the trick,
When Crazy Glue can also make a cut stick.

Between paper clips, rubber bands, and colorful tacks,
Men have their own way of getting on track.
Hammers and screwdrivers, nails, and glue,
They accomplish everything a doctor can do!

“Don’t worry,” “I’m fine,” and “It’s really okay”
Are typical phrases you’ll hear them say.
‘Cos they’re sure they can fix anything, after all, in the end,
There’s a reason why Duct Tape is a man’s best friend!

Don't Judge Me (please)

2008-07-01T21:22:00.002-04:00

You talk down to my heart, my pride,
You challenge my journeys and my ride
You put down my success and joy,
All for your own selfish ploys.

You think you have a right to judge me,
Just because you can’t begrudge me,
The happiness I stand to gain,
While you’re still riding on your train.

You think you have a right to this,
To smack down my smiles and bliss,
You say you know me but you don’t,
You only see me through what I wrote.

You haven’t been through thick and thin,
You have no idea what shape I’m in,
You weren’t with me through the sludge,
I don’t think you have a right to judge.

Say what you will, I can’t care now,
I know I’m here and I know how,
You had nothing to do with who I am,
And so I’ll ignore what you say as you talk to the hand.

I know it’s not over; you’re not the only one,
There’ll be many more of this until it’s done,
But for right now I am not ready to budge,
Say what you will, but please don’t judge.

It might be jealousy; it might be for real,
But scars you cause are hard to heal,
Who are you to shout out loud?
What have you done that makes you proud?

When you stand with and hold my hand
Then if you want to judge I’ll understand,
But until I say you have an in,
I only answer to myself and Him.

What's Within

2008-06-30T17:49:00.004-04:00

"What lies before us and what is behind are tiny compared to what is within us."

Today I went back to Hackensack for a routine checkup. I go back about twice a year and usually to a different "post cancer" office building. Today it just so happened that my appointment was back at the clinic where I took chemo almost five years ago.

I haven't been inside the clinic in at least two and a half years and it was really strange to be back there again. It felt so familiar, like my second home, but then it felt like I was an outsider now. I didn't recognize a single patient there. All the ones I knew have finished up and are out of there a long time already.

The doctors and nurses were busy tickling and entertaining JB who was there for the first time, and I was signing copies of my book that I had brought along to give out.

I felt a little out of place talking about my book in a room full of kids who were so sick and seemed to have it so much worse than I did back then, but then the phrase at the start of this post caught my eye.

It was framed on the wall above the secretary's desk and I thought it was so beautiful. It made me feel so at peace with my illness and how long or short or hard or easy it may have been compared to others.

I realized it's not about comparing. Hashem doesn't compare. He gives us all different lives to lead, and different strengths to deal with our different struggles. Hashem doesn't look at us and compare our nisyonos with others', He knows what He has given each of us and expects us to use what He gave us to live with it.

He won't ask me after 120 why I didn't deal with my illness the way Leah'le did, or why I wrote a book about it when Michal kept quiet. All He will want to know was if I used the tools he supplied me with in the best possible way that I could.

He won't ask me about the details in my life, He will already know them as He is the one who maps out those details. He will only want to hear about what was within me. What I used from my own resources to navigate the road he chose to be my path in life.

So when I left my hospital today after a short checkup and a long visit, I left reassured that no matter who may compare me and judge me and criticize, the only two answers I need to give are to Hashem and to myself.

I am growing and learning and changing every day and there is no possible way for me to answer something now that will have to last for eternity, but I can say that I am happy with where I stand right now.

I didn't write this book for me, I wrote it for others. I know what role cancer has held in my life and now I hope that others can take hope and inspiration from my story, whether they like the book or not.

My book comes from that which is within me- my writing was a tool that G-d gave me to use in my personal life struggles and I know that people can say all they want about where I have come from and how far I have gone, but no one can judge me about what is within. That is between me and my creator.

I'm proud that I was able to work my outside experiences into something I was able to internalize. It doesn't matter to me anymore that my illness was maybe a little shorter than someone else's or that my story had a nice ending, what matters is how I dealt with it. I took a look within today, and I guess you can say I like what I saw.

And now I just took a look in the mirror and discovered that my head is once again bloated.

Looks Like we Made It!

2008-06-29T21:35:00.005-04:00

Now I'm starting to feel like this is all real.

I got an email to my inbox from Aish.com and it was a link to their new articles this week, Guess what was headlining??? Mine!!

I was asked to write an article for them and so I did and Gavriel Sanders polished it a little (okay, a lot) for me and today it hit the site! I'm so exctied.

Plus, my mother woke me up this morning to tell me that my book was listed as number one seller of the month in the Country Yossi magazine.

Talk about dreams come true!!

*Hugging myself with joy with right hand, left hand is trying to squeeze my head into before-ego size...- hands too tied up to write more!*

Doctors don't know Everything

2008-06-25T20:47:00.003-04:00

Doctors think they know everything. I used to think so too.

If the doctor told me to drink toilet water and smear toothpaste on my hair because it would help my vocal chords, I would listen blindly. I used to think that if the doctor went through x amount of years in medical school and made it here, it must be that he knew what he was talking about.

Of course, that was before I found out that they were passing by using Google and then getting drunk every night in the local bar...

Then I started seeing things happen that the doctors themselves couldn't explain. Kids who lived through "fatal" tumors, and kids who died from
"minor surgery."

I proved my heart could withstand pregnancy after chemo without a single drop in performance, and that my lungs went through each round of chemo without losing even a decimal of its former ability.

Kids like me were told the facts before we even started and some of us went and turned those facts into myths, right in front of our doctors' eyes.

I feel like slapping the kid who called me up crying that she only had a 90% chance of ever having kids- the same chance as almost anyone who never went through chemo anyway, and feel like bursting her eardrums with the stories of patients I knew who shocked the world with a baby after being declared 95% infertile.

I would never go to a doctor who said he didn't know anything, but then again, I would never go to a doctor who claimed to know everything. My doctor always impressed on me that he was Hashem's shaliach and that he was obligated to tell me what it said in the textbooks, but that he knew that nothing had to be true if Hashem didn't want it to be.

I still think doctors know a lot, but now I know they don't know everything. (Especially after the toothpaste and toilet water regimen...and yes I'm joking about that one! *rolls eyes*)

***Just as an addition, I was at the doctor for a random checkup today (a few days after the original post) and I had a funny rash he wasn't sure what to do with. My husband suggested a cream he had used on a similar rash. The doctor had never heard of this medication and so right in front of us he took out his blackberry and Googled it. He found out what the cream was made of and found that it would serve my rash very well indeed. I was so impressed that he listened to my husband's suggestion when he could have easily insisted that he was the doctor and that he knew what he was talking about...***

The Deal With My Name

2008-06-22T19:22:00.002-04:00

Okay, here's the post you all deserve.

What's the deal with my pen name?

Well.... Long story, let's start at the top.

To begin with this was an anonymous blog just because I was trying to protect my family and the names of all the people I associated with at the time of my illness. I had to respect everyone's privacy, and even though my story was very recognizable to those people who know me, I had to keep it on the low for those that didn't.

I also wanted to keep it identity free because of all the readers who were reading this while trying to keep their illness a secret. For them, seeing that someone they might have known wrote this blog might make them afraid of reading it. I once had a reader email me to the blog addy and beg me not to tell anyone that she had read my blog. She thought I could tell who visited my site just by running it. She emailed me in a panic when she realized who I was and begged me not to tell anyone we knew. I know it sounds weird, but there are people out there who honestly know nothing about computers... and about how keeping cancer a secret (doesn't) work.

And then the idea came up for making this into a book. I was all for it, but I didn't want my name on it for a few reasons. One, I didn't want my students coming into class next year and on the first day waving the book in my face and asking if I was the bald kid who sassed her teachers.

Second- I didn't want to walk into a shop, hand over my credit card and have my name recognized. I can only imagine buying some clothing for my JB and having the salesclerk lean over and say "OMG EVERYONE!!! THIS IS JB!!! HE'S THE BOY WHO WAS BORN AFTER CANCER!!! THE ONE WHO LIVED AFTER HIS MOTHER FACED "THE DISEASE THAT MUST NOT BE NAMED!! LET'S RAKE OUR EYES OVER HIS FOREHEAD AND SEE IF WE CAN SPOT HIS LIGHTENING SHAPED SCAR!!" Yeah, I don't think so.

I also didn't feel right having my name on the cover of a book. I like attention, but I know when it becomes an ayin hara. It's one thing if I had written a fiction novel, it's another when the book is about my true life story and fairy tale ending for all to yenta about.

And then my book became more than a book. It's becoming a movement. People are asking me to speak all over the place and obviously, that means I'm not just Tzipi Caton, I have a real identity too.

I still chose to stick with Tzipi- (well by that time the book was already in print and I had no choice) but I had another reason for doing so. I have no problem getting on stage and introducing myself with my real name- and then explaining why I have a pen name.

This is why.

As much humor as there is throughout my book, cancer is a big deal. A scary, terrifying, nightmare of a thing to go through. I did it. I went through it, wrote a book on it, and hopefully gave and will continue to give a lot of chizuk with my story. Veni, Vidi, Vici.

But the fact remains that it is a very hard thing to live with every day. My trademark phrase is "That was then. I am now." Let the world associate the name Tzipi Caton with the kid who laughed through cancer. My name should not be stuck to that part of my past all the time- I want my name to just be me. The ME who is living life today, happy and healthy.

I always say that cancer has changed who I am as a person but has not defined me. I know that very clearly, but it's hard for others understand. I don't want to give them the permission to label me forever as that cancer person. I was, and I still have times that I am, but as a general rule, my life today does not scream "I WAS ONCE SICK!"

Even now that my book is out and some people have put two and two together and realized it was me, I am getting swamped with calls begging me to mentor this kid or that one who is going through treatment. This may sound so selfish, but I have a life, and a great one at that, and I can't invest my energy into developing close personal relationships with kids in tough times. It will kill my spirit as well as sap all my kochos. I wrote my book to help as many people as I can, but I know my strengths. My best tools are my writing and speaking. NOT my personal phone calls and the stresses of keeping tabs on a million kids on chemo.

I know this may be shocking to people out there, but I am not the expert on cancer. Far from it. I just touched the tip of the iceberg with my round. Yes, I chose to write about it and give the world a peek into what life forms on other planets are like, but that does not mean I have all the answers or that I would make a good mentor to others.

I have a family member who totally gives me that fish-eye every time she hears I got another speaking arrangement. She also went through treatment for another type of cancer and she thinks I know nothing because I didn't have the same symptoms as she did. Well Duh, She and I had two different diseases and took different chemos. I cannot speak for her pain as she cannot speak for mine.

I am involved and I do mentor the odd kid here or there, but it's proving to be a huge strain on me. I would rather keep my lives separate, my names separate, so that I can have the kochos I need to give strength to others and then forget about it all when I need to be a wife and a Mommy.

I hope this all made sense to you because it's all a little garbled in my mind right now- I am exceptionally tired right now as I had four phone calls just today from people I don't know who asked me to talk to people I don't know either to give them emunah from I don't know where. I am slightly annoyed that people don't respect my privacy and the decision I made by putting Tzipi Caton on the book instead of my real name, and that they still went and tracked down my unlisted number which is that way for a reason.

Oh well, can't win em all. :-)

Now, for those of you still following my kvetch rant for today- if you have been reading my blog long enough and still haven't figured out who I am, then why do you think that if I tell you my name it will mean anything more to you than Tzipi Caton does?

And my face? I blocked it off for tzniyus reasons... :-P

Mwhahahahahaha!

To Speak or not to Speak...That is the Question

2008-06-18T22:09:00.002-04:00

Have a little debate going on in my head. Well not so much my head as between my husband and I and now on the blog.

My husband is not very happy with this whole publicity thing around my book. He is really excited with the book and the fact that I'm an author but he's afraid of all the speaking arrangements and the public appearances.

He claims that even though I'm passing myself off as a young spunky stinker kid of speaker, the fact that I will get up in front of dinner crowds and speak in public will automatically cause people to expect more of me as a person. He thinks that I will be forced to change some aspects of my life to fit a certain image that people will have of me from now on.

I keep saying that it isnt true and that even as a speaker I'm not hiding who I am, but he insists that now if I walk out in a badanna or a slinky skirt, or take my son to the beach, people might look down on me, sort of expecting more.

So that's our disagreement. I wonder if he has a point. I'm sure some aspect of it is right- people are going to view me differently, they already are. But I wonder if I will really have to change my lifestyle for it and if I dont, will it have a negative affect.

It's not like I don't practice what I preach- and it's not like I'm speaking about Torah topics that turn me into a rebbetzin- I just talk about what I know- Cancer and my experience.

Does he have a valid point? Do I have to start watching my back from now on and start dressing my kid in only Jacadi outfits to stop people from avoiding my speeches because my kid only wears Old Navy?

Opinions please!

Ego Boost!

2008-06-17T11:46:00.003-04:00

Having so much fun being Tzipi Caton...

I just walked into a local bookstore to buy a book for a student of mine and I noticed a beautiful display of Miracle Ride on the shelf.

JB was with me and he pointed at the bright butterfly which I took to mean he recognized Mommy's book. But then again, he also yelled "Pamper!" when he pointed at a stack of yarmulkas...

I couldn't find the book I was looking for and so I asked the lady behind the counter if she had it in stock. Turned out she didn't. She didn't have the other, backup book I wanted either.

Dreading the thought of leaving the cool bookstore to face the heat outside, I stalled for time.

"That book," I said pointing over at mine, "is it a good seller?"

She looked over the counter to where I was pointing and she starting raving about how she had just finished it and that it was a great book and that it so far was a good seller even though it was pretty new.

I asked her if she got any regards on the book and she shrugged and said that it was selling well but that it was still new. She asked if I read it.

I grinned and told her I wrote it.

Without even asking for ID as confirmation, she grabbed six books and asked me to sign them for her kids.

Mwahahah. Even the heat was okay after that ego boost.

Okay, time to deflate my head...

I'm Still a Stinker!

2008-06-16T23:51:00.002-04:00

Wow, my life is getting weird.

People are calling me up and asking me to speak in schools and stuff. Some people are talking to me like I'm some rebbetzin or like I'm the authority on all things cancer.

It's so strange to me because even my mother is talking about me to her friends like I'm just some angel she rasied by mistake. Ma!! Wake up!! Remember the time I tanned with star stickers on my cheek?!

I feel like slapping people and telling them that I didn't change- only their perception of me has. I'm still a little stinker- I was alaways this amazing person deep down inside, but now I wrote a book about it so they all know it.

Why did my husband actually listen to me and stop on the way home for the milshake I wanted? I guess fame and fortune have its merits...but oh, it feels sooooo strange!

The only one who hasn't been affected by my new status is my son, he proceeded to empty the tissue box an hour before Shabbos and climb into my cabinets Friday morning.

I am totally loving the ride I'm taking with Miracle Ride, but whoa, can I snap out of it when I want my old life back for a bit??

Please??

Just kidding... But still, it does feel weird.

Does being an author mean I'm not a stinker no more?

My School's New Required Reading

2008-06-13T16:22:00.003-04:00

Book Signing

2008-06-11T10:03:00.004-04:00

Well here's my late post about the book signing last week.

It was awesome!

I was so nervous before it started that no one would show up and that my book was going to be a dud, but then at 6:30, people started pouring into Eichler's.

There were lots of people I knew, and many more that I didn't, and some just walked in when they saw the crowd in the store and others came because they heard me on the radio.

At the end of the night I signed 150 copies- a total record!! My hand was suffering from writer's cramp the whole weekend.

It was so great to meet some of my fans and other bloggers, and to see how many people were excited to get the book.

I got a call from my publicist- Gavriel Sanders, this Friday. He called to tell me that we needed to fix as many typos as possible in the next hour because the book was going into a second printing before Shavuous. In the first three days my book sold 3800 copies of the 5000 printed and they were rushing to get more on the shelves!

Thank you to whomever out there bought this book!!!! I feel so cool!

The book signing ended at ten- two hours after it was supposed to, and it left me on a high!

My students came too, and three of them bought me a helium balloon with a little teddy bear at the bottom- they said that they wanted to get me a HUGE white bear that cost $80 but after reading excerpts from my book all year, they sort of figured I wouldn't be too thrilled. (For those of you who read the book, you know what I mean!)

They are so cute!!

When I came to class on Thursday- 95% of my kids had Miracle Ride on their desks. I think it became a new textbook in my school.... I took a picture of them all reading it- I'll put it up here later.

So now that school is ending and I have summer open, people are starting to ask me to come speak for them. I'm speaking in a girl's school this Friday and then in New Jersey in a week. I'm getting stage fright already, but I'm so excited!!

I'll keep you posted!

Some Reviews...

2008-06-05T23:36:00.004-04:00

wow, the book came today. while waiting for the cheesecake to cool i started to read... i'm nearly done - i had to force myself to stop reading so i'll have SOMETHING for Shabbos!!!!

G'shabbos,
Stam

I just finished reading your book. I ordered it online (since all the stores I went to in Monsey didn't have it yet), and I sat down to read it the minute I got it. Its amazing! A real source of inspiration. I really have to thank you for all the chizuk you put in there. I really enjoyed your book. I cried on one page and laughed the by the next. I hope your part on shidduchim for people who aren't the typical because they have gone through something... will help to change the way people think and act.

Thank you!

Miriam

Dear Tzipi's Mom,

I dont know where to begin...

First of all, thanks for the most beautiful gift,
My intent was to save it for Shabbos, after all I havnt been home at a
decent hour for over a month, so I couldnt indulge in a good book,
However, I couldnt resist and I just peeked in...

Well of course I couldnt put it down,

I cried and laughed and cried some more, I didnt know that a human has the
capacity to laugh and cry so intensely at the same moment, not the laugh so
hard till you cry kind of combination, but the real tears of emotion from
the pain and the hysterically humorous wit...
Well your girl is something special!!!!

Every part of the ride touched me all over again. Your strength throughout
the ordeal and the ability to document it, photograph it, laugh about it and
run your household through it all continues to amaze me.

I have lots more to say, but the sun is rising, and I'm scared my husband will
catch me still up

SO I will end with wishing you much nachas from your daughter, her husband, and JB (is that his real name?) and much much nachas from the rest of your mishpacha.

May this book inspire and encourage Klal Yisroel, and may this disease and
all sickness be eradicated from our people.

See you later, I"yH

Privileged to know such amazing people.

Esther

I just wanted to let u know that I skimmed the book yesterday (especially the last few chapters) cause I remembered part of the story from when it happened and it’s great! It’s such an easy read, I read much more than I meant to (being that I was in middle of giving my son a bottle at 12:45am). My husband was actually reading it too, and he really liked the Jewish Santa part. I’ll let u know when I finish it.

Book Signing Pics!

2008-06-05T11:31:00.003-04:00

Will post on how it was last night when I get back from my day job...

Half my Nerves Gone

2008-06-04T10:10:00.004-04:00

Half of my nerves for today are taken care of! Just done the Nachum Segal interview and I had so much fun! He was so funny and easy to talk to. The archives should be up later so I'll post a link to them soon.

Mr. Segal actually called me after to tell me that he was so unexpectedly surprised that I was from Boro Park and yet so worldly. I told him that he got me and that I was really an alien invader from another galaxy just posing as a chassidish kid from Brooklyn. Mwahahahaha!

I must thank two blogs, Serandez and BadforShidduchim, for posting about my upcoming book signing this evening. I hope news of the book has gone out to a large audience and that we will totally bowl ArtSroll over with the demand for the book.

We must show the world out there that there is a huge need for literature on this topic and literature that can be spunky and humorous and honest. This is really just about me making more money off it, but seriously, be there. The cancer community wants to come out of hiding and the only way it's going to happen is if there is a really positive response to Miracle Ride.

So far I got really good feedback from the people who have already read the book (it was put on shelves yesterday) and people are still calling to tell me about it. I hope that tonight Eichler's sells out of the 250 books they have in stock for the signing.

Hope to see you all there!

Legally Me

2008-05-31T23:30:00.003-04:00

So this is what being 21 is like....

I hosted the Friday night meal here in my tiny matchbox apartment for my family -15 people in total- l'kavod the book and my birthday. It was lots of fun and all order was kept at the expense of my sanity. Just joking mother- please come again! The ice cream cake was heavenly, (thanks to Sprinkles of Boro Park) and you have half a tray of leftovers in my freezer....

The next part of becoming 21 was getting stuck in that splendid display of thunder and lightening we had this morning- oh yes, and also the rain. My little JB refused to take the stroller today so we were both caught in the rain and soaked, him in his new outfit and shoes and me in my freshly washed sheitel that was supposed to make me look good for Wednesdays' signing. But JB had so much fun splashing in the puddles that I stripped him down to his striped undershirt and let him live and enjoy his toddler hood...until we got back home...

Then came the presents. The presents that remind me that I am no longer a teenager, but a (young) woman about to take on life... and allowed to legally drink...okay, well Vitamin Water is the most I drink, but its nice to know I can if I wanted to.

Soon comes my new diver's license in the mail- to replace the one I've been hiding away in my wallet for three years because it has "UNDER 21" printed right near that ugly picture of me.

Also comes the excitement of having published my own book, and the nervousness about putting it out there and becoming a voice representing people in my situation. I never meant to be anything but an author, but this year, being 21, might teach me a few things I might not yet know about myself.

Along with my new age comes the honor and challenge of standing behind my upcoming book- the honor to acknowledge the praise and the challenge of facing opposition from those who think I am too young and naive and too nervy to have a real opinion on life.

Turning 21 is a big deal for me, it means that I have 21 years of experience behind me, with 21 years worth of friends and family and blog readers along with me, and the world at large recognizing me as an adult. Now the last part of being 21 is to recognize myself that way and know that I am ready for whatever my 22nd year will bring me.

Can I be 21 and still be a little stinker?

Starting Something Big

2008-05-30T13:04:00.003-04:00

Okay cyber-readers, I need your help.

With all the publicity that I'm trying to do for my book, I got a very unexpected call from a good friend of my father's.

This is man who lost a son to cancer years ago, and feels strongly about my book getting out there to help other patients laugh and see the brighter side of things.

He offered to buy $500 worth of books to be given to patients, and then he said that if ArtScroll would offer him a discount he'd give another hundred. ArtScroll said they'd definitely do a discount for people wanting to donate books.

Another pal of my fathers loved the idea and also pledged $100.

Now we're all thinking about spreading the word and trying to raise money to get my book out to hospitals and to Jewish patients and their families free of charge. It does mean money though.

We are trying to raise (for starters) like $1200 which will give us about 80 books to work with. 80 books doesnt sound like an awful lot, but having been on the other side, I will tell you that if someone had given me a humorous book about my situation when I was sick, it would have meant the world.

We are hoping my book will mean the world to 80 patients out there- maybe more.

Will anyone care to join the quest?

Proper Invite...

2008-05-28T21:35:00.000-04:00

The Face Behind the Blog

2008-05-28T11:06:00.004-04:00

Okay readers! You've been following me for a while now and this week you got to finally hear my voice. One reader- "Blueberry" commented that my voice sounds the same as my writing- like a 12 year old. I told her that my face looks the same too.

Now my face is going public with a book signing at Eichler's in Boro Park next week Wedesday.

I'll be on the Nachum Segal show in the morning and then from 6:30 to 8:00 pm I will be signing copies of Miracle Ride to buyers in Eichler's.

ArtScroll has done up a stunning email invite to the book signing but I can't figure out how to get it onto the blog- oh well. I still have lots to learn.:-)

I believe they are offering a %20 off the list price of my book- so there you have another reason to come and meet me. :-)

I'm really really nervous but soooo excited! I hope to see some of you there! I'll bring JB too...if he behaves...

Archive of Gavriel Sanders Show

2008-05-27T08:52:00.003-04:00

For those of you who missed my late night interview with Gavriel Sanders, here is where you can listen to it:

For streaming online: Click HERE

For downloading to MP3 or computer: Click HERE

Tell me what you think!

Check it Out!

2008-05-25T17:23:00.004-04:00

Click HERE to go to ArtScroll's website where you can already preorder a copy!

New book news!

2008-05-22T23:19:00.004-04:00

Hey everyone! Newest update on my book...

I was interviewed by Gavriel Sanders for his radio show. The show airs Sunday nights at midnight on WSNR AM 620 NYC. There will most likely be archives of the interview for those of you who don't want to stay up that late :-)

Got to www.gavrielsanders.com for the archives if you miss it!

I will have another interview IY"H with Nachum Segal, Wedesday, June 4, at 8:30 am. The show plays on 91.1 FM WFMU. I can imagine there will be an archive of the interview too on his site: www.nachumsegal.com

Let me know if you hear me on the radio! I'll be going under the name Tzipi Caton...

Whoa!

2008-05-20T11:22:00.005-04:00

From having nothing to say a week ago, I'm revved up to write right now!

The book is REAL. It's ALIVE! And it's coming your way! The people at ArtScroll called me yesterday morning to finalize the cover and to tell me that the book will be on shelves the first week in June. I am still catching my breath. Those guys work fast!

http://www.artscroll.com/Books/mirh.html That's the link to ArtScroll's page on my book and you can order the book there and actually preorder it now.

I got a call this morning about talking on the radio together with my doctor to promote this book and I'm really thrilled! I'm already picking out my wardrobe for when I go on the Oprah Winfrey show. ;-)

The people over at ArtScroll are making it sound like this book is going to be huge and I'm still kind of in shock. I never expected something I wrote to keep me sane at age 16 to become a national bestseller. This is too good to be true!

There will IY"H be a link on this page where you can buy the book directly from the blog, but for now ArtSCroll's website is the only place you can preorder it.

Amazon.com will also carry the book, and it has a glossary in the back that explains all the Jewish terms so that the book can go to a much larger reader base.

The description of the book on the website I posted is so beautiful, I'm really excited to hold a copy of my own and see it for real.

My students are all planning to buy a copy and have me autograph it for graduation. :-) One of my students today pointed out how so much good was coming out of a very bad illness and I felt like hugging her because that's kind of the whole point of my book- to show how much good can come out of anything Hashem gives us.

I plan on keeping the site open and updating you with the radio shows and the fame and glory and stuffs and of course with all the other cancer rants. Now that I'm going public there are sure to be many more stories to share.

My little JB is going to be famous but he's too little to care. Right now he got himself stuck into my cleaning bucket, so I need to take a break from fame and get him out.

Updates to follow more often now!

Updates

2008-05-15T19:14:00.002-04:00

Okay! I'm here!

The book is really moving! They called me today from ArtScroll to finalize some minor little details that had to get done, and the actual printing is within the next week or two. That means that by this summer you can see the book on shelves! I'm so excited!

The title has been changed to "Miracle Ride" even though I liked "Riding Backwards" better. There will be a subtitle on the cover to give a little insight to the book and so far we came up with "Fighting a Tumor with a Dose of Humor". I thought that was a good subtitle, but ArtScroll still needs to approve.

The cover art isn't done yet, it's in the process of being created, but printing can happen before the cover is done so I dont care much. I need ideas for a good cover, but I trust ArtScroll has ideas of their own. After all, they're in the business a lot longer than I am!

There are two forewords and two afterwords in the book. My doctor and my mother have each written a foreword, and my friend (another survivor) and myself have written the afterwords. Well my aftweword is more like a thank you page, but its worth reading cause it's funny. I am not about to drop my unique style even for a boring acknowlegements page.

My students are so excited with this book- they are learning so much from the process of what it takes to write and edit and print. I should publish a book every year! My classes all deserve this experience.

My doctor actually called to talk to me about the book and he's really excited about it too. He felt that this is something that no one has covered yet in the market and he feels that this might be good for all patients to read- not just the Jewish ones.

He laughed about all thos incidents that he remembered me getting into, and said that there were a lot of times where I cried or was serious that he never would have guessed felt. He thought it was something that could show people out there that its possible to see things in a good way but its okay to cry too. I'm so happy that he thinks highly of the book.

Other than that he asked me if I would mind talking to a new patient of his who also has Hodgkin's. She's a little down about the whole thing and he thought it would be good for her to see me and hear my point of view. I said yes right away, but I'm kind of shy and nervous.

Anything else about the book? Oh, yeah. I went and gave a class to a seventh grade last week about what it's like to be an author. The teacher is my niece and she took advantage of me by asking me to fill up her lesson. I had a great time pretending to be this amazing author, and then it hit me, like, "Hey! I AM an author!" Feels good!

Pretty much that's what I have to write for now and I'll keep posting as my book gets closer to being published...

Thanks for reading!

I'm Still Breathing....

2008-05-06T23:37:00.001-04:00

New post to be up shortly.. lots of stressers now, but life to return to normal within a few days. Sorry "amazing", be right with ya!

Condition: Un-Covered!

2008-04-15T20:35:00.003-04:00

You would think that after almost 5 years I'd have nothing more to say on the issue of getting treated for cancer. Alas, that is not the case.

Treatments may be over but my lasting effects are far from gone. We're not talking lasting effects as far as my health goes, I'm talking about the lasting effect cancer had on my Insurance coverage.

My insurance has been a mess ever since I was first diagnosed. My insurance cancelled on my as I was taken in to the emergency room for the first time. They said I wasn't covered outside of New York and they cancelled me on the spot.

I was changed over to another provider that same night but my parents paid much more because I had a pre-existing condition. The company didn't want to cover half my scans and tests and my mother used to spend hours on the phone fighting the charges.

When I got married my husband and I went on the same plan and it's still a fortune cos of my condition. They refuse to pay anything unless I personally call them and tell them that under so and so clause of so and so law in my contract, they had to cover me.

And let's not forget about the co-pays!!! I went to the pharmcay to pick up a perscription and realized that the co pay was more than the actual medicine! I offered to pay for it myself- I need this insurance like a hole in the head.

My husband is into the idea of getting each of us a life insurance policy- of course, he's been trying to get one on me for a long time but these companies charge a fortune to insure someone with a pre-existing condition.

If I have to go to yet another life insurance company and take yet another blood test and EKG and urine sample, I will sue them all.

This week I find out that I am no longer on any insurance plan. The one I was on with my husband is up for renewal and we just found out that the payroll we had been on cut us off six months ago.

Being on a company's payroll list is so that we could apply for insurance with a group and that makes it cheaper cos the companies assume that if you are on payroll you are well enough to work and that makes is much less likely that they will ever have to shell out money for you.

So now that we have to renew our policy we have to show that we are on payroll but because we are not anymore and we were never notified that we were being cut off, we cannot renew our policy and we can't get COBRA cos we would have had to apply for that as soon as we were cut off.

So now I need to go for checkups in one month and if I don't get onto an insurance plan within 20 days I will have to apply for insurance as a brand new patient which means that they can reject me or raise my rates for my pre-existing condition yet again.

This is EXACTLY what I need erev Pesach!

The Pictures

2008-03-28T16:01:00.001-04:00

This is the most exciting thing that happened this Purim. My JB became a Mommy and helped me cook for Shabbos :-)